


you shine like the stars (you light up my heart)

by hyuckheis (johnyongs)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Many Secks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 02:06:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13308123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnyongs/pseuds/hyuckheis
Summary: taeyong knows the only reason he's brave enough to sext johnny seo is because it's supposed to be convenient and inconsequential.except it isn't.





	you shine like the stars (you light up my heart)

**Author's Note:**

> this story is dedicated to E, without whom this fic would absolutely not exist. this is just as much their intellectual property as it is mine!!!!! a god we don't deserve.  
> also! a big thanks to key n lisa for bein awesome n encouraging human beans n giving me feedback!!!!  
> the title is from exo's "been through" from their annual emo winter album which did NOT disappoint i was rlly inspired by this track

Taeyong thinks the only reason why the neighbors can’t hear him screaming is because Johnny has three fingers in his mouth, muffling the noises Taeyong would be making, considering.

 

“Sh-- _shit--”_ Johnny grunts, hips snapping faster, harder, and Taeyong knows by the reckless pace that Johnny is close. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and his shriek is thankfully muffled.

 

It’s so fucking filthy, feeling the drool on his chin, the solid weight of Johnny on top of him, his mouth latched onto the skin of Taeyong’s neck like a vice as he nails Taeyong’s prostate, again and again. Taeyong grips Johnny’s shoulder tight, just trying to hold on.

 

“ _Mff--_ ” is the only sound Taeyong can let out before he’s coming, his back arching so far off the bed he thinks it might just snap. His vision goes completely white, and for a few terrifying seconds, he can’t _breathe,_ because his brain isn’t working, and he can’t remember how to get the precious air back into his lungs.

 

Johnny comes undone moments later, with a final animalistic groan, pressing his cock as deep as it’ll go into Taeyong’s ass and grinding out his orgasm. Taeyong shakes from the overstimulation, feeling lightheaded when he feels Johnny’s dick pulse inside of him. His come fills the condom, and Taeyong, in his fucked-out state, can’t help but wish Johnny wasn’t wearing one.

 

Johnny collapses on top of Taeyong, pressing him into the mattress as Johnny pants into Taeyong’s shoulder. Taeyong can hardly catch his breath, his vision is swimming, and he just stares up at the ceiling, dazed, because Johnny’s just fucked his brains out.

 

It takes a minute or so for Taeyong to come back to earth, and the endorphins are starting to wear off enough that Johnny’s body is way too heavy of a weight to bare anymore. “Hey--” Taeyong says softly, petting the back of Johnny’s neck. He wants very badly to just stay like this-- Johnny’s mouth on his skin, his silky hair brushing Taeyong’s cheek, his cologne heady and arousing.

 

But Johnny is significantly more heavy than Taeyong, and now he’s claustrophobic. He nudges Johnny’s shoulder none too gently, and Johnny rolls off of Taeyong with a groan, pulling out in the process. Taeyong winces at the sudden emptiness.

 

“You couldn’t wait ten seconds to get our clothes off?” Taeyong asks, thinking back to how Johnny had pounced on him the moment he let Taeyong into his apartment. Taeyong’s still got his shirt and zip-up hoodie on, though he’d been divested of his pants and underwear for obvious reasons.

 

He looks at Johnny from the corner of his eyes. He’s still completely dressed, and had only _just_ enough presence of mind to unzip his pants and put a condom on before he fucked Taeyong senseless.

 

“You were teasing me all day, what did you expect?” Johnny’s full, kiss-swollen mouth curls up into a smirk, though his eyes are still closed in bliss.

 

Taeyong isn’t really complaining. He likes this animalistic side of Johnny, totally unrestrained, possessive, greedy, and rough. Maybe that’s why he’d decided to push today, sexting Johnny all day before their agreed meet-up time. Johnny finally pushes himself up, pressing a tender kiss to Taeyong’s temple before getting out of bed, pulling off the condom and tossing it into the trash bin.

 

Johnny walks out of the room, still very much clothed, and Taeyong hears the water running in the bathroom across the hall. He’s not sure he can move yet, his lower back pleasantly sore, but his legs are still shaking. It’s the sweat pressing his shirt to his chest that has Taeyong grimacing, finally managing to gather the strength to sit up and attempt to take his clothes off.

 

“I got come on my shirt.” Taeyong pouts when Johnny comes back into the room, damp washcloth in hand. His inky hair is gloriously tousled, tank top stretched and wrinkled thanks to Taeyong’s vice like grip. His lips are curled up into that pleased smirk he always wears after they’ve fucked. It takes all of Taeyong’s willpower not to whimper. Johnny’s been merciful enough to at least tuck his dick back into his pants, though the zipper is still open.

 

Johnny’s answering grin is wide and blinding. “Guess you’ll have to wear mine.” Taeyong rolls his eyes, keeping still as Johnny sits on the edge of the bed beside him and wipes away the come on his stomach and shirt, then the excess slick from between his ass. When Johnny moves the towel to Taeyong’s thighs though, he hisses at the sharp pain.

 

“Shit, babe, I’m sorry.” Taeyong looks down at the skin of his inner thighs, rubbed raw, no doubt from the metallic and unforgiving zip of Johnny’s jeans. To Johnny’s credit, he looks genuinely guilty.

 

“It’s okay,” Taeyong says, shaking his head. “I’ll just put shea butter on it later or something.” Johnny’s still pouting though, so Taeyong grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. “It’s not the worst thing you’ve done to me,” he murmurs against Johnny’s mouth, smile teasing. At that, Johnny pulls Taeyong closer by the back of his neck, pressing a dirty, open-mouthed kiss to his lips.

 

“Take off your clothes,” Johnny says, voice a little rough, and Taeyong lets out a bright peel of laughter.

 

“But you just fucked me like a minute ago.”

 

Johnny shoots him a helpless look as he gets up and goes towards his closet, pulling out his favorite Supreme pullover, and tosses it at Taeyong. When Johnny turns his back to him, Taeyong takes a surreptitious sniff of the clothing, because to say he’s addicted to Johnny’s smell would be a gross understatement.

 

Taeyong pulls off his jacket and shirt, but before he can even attempt to put on the pullover, Johnny is on him again. “ _Jesus--_ “ Taeyong yelps in surprise, his head hitting the pillows.

 

“You’re so hot,” Johnny groans, pressing a teasing kiss to the skin right below Taeyong’s pierced left nipple. He whines, squirming in Johnny’s iron grip. “On second thought, you should just stay naked.”

 

“But I’ll be cold,” Taeyong whines (again) because something about Johnny makes him feel childish, spoiled, especially when he knows Johnny will indulge everything.

 

“I’ll just cuddle you the whole time,” Johnny shoots back easily. He presses a wet kiss to the other nipple, licking at the cold metal of the bar piercing.

 

“ _No,”_ Taeyong yelps, because now he’s starting to get hard again, just from Johnny’s mouth on him (embarrassing). He pushes Johnny away, valiantly ignoring the responding pout.

 

“At least keep the plug?” Taeyong pulls the sweater over his head before raising his eyebrow. Johnny looks too innocent for the nature of his request. “I wanna fuck you in the kitchen later.”

 

Taeyong sighs, turning his head to grapple blindly for his glasses, thrown carelessly somewhere on the mattress. Secretly, he’s so pleased his idea had worked. These days Johnny has been too easy to rile up, and Taeyong had spent a good part of the day sending suggestive pictures and a video fingering himself before slipping in a large flared plug.

 

“What do you want to eat?” Taeyong asks putting his glasses on and squinting at the now-high resolution of his vision. Johnny’s face softens slightly, and he brushes Taeyong’s hair off his forehead.

 

“What do _you_ want to eat?” Johnny’s grin is cheeky, and Taeyong rolls his eyes. He doesn’t have time to make a biting remark, because Johnny’s slipping the plug back inside him, watching rapturously as Taeyong’s mouth opens in a choked moan. Taeyong can’t help the furious blush on his cheeks, and he bites his lip and Johnny helps him back into his briefs. “Wait! Let me get my camera--“

 

Taeyong bites backs a groan as Johnny scrambles for the film camera on the nightstand. It’s becoming a common thing now, for Johnny to take picture of Taeyong when they’re fucking, after they’ve fucked, when Taeyong is _eating._

 

So Taeyong lets Johnny rearrange him with a practiced eye, turning on the bedside lamp so there’s a warm glow around him. Taeyong splays his bare legs and buries his face into the pillow, fighting back a smile as Johnny snaps a few pictures carefully, cooing soft praises as he works.

 

“Let’s just see what’s in the fridge,” Taeyong grumbles after a few minutes, getting to his feet. His knees wobble a little, but he tugs himself stubbornly out of Johnny’s hold. He can totally walk on his own.

  


\--

  


Jaehyun is drunk.

 

Jaehyun is so impossibly drunk that Taeyong wonders how the hell he hasn’t blacked out yet. And yet, here he is, bent over the toilet Taeyong _just_ cleaned yesterday, puking his guts out.

 

“I’m gonna get you some gatorade…” Taeyong says tentatively. Jaehyun nods, and Taeyong hesitates, because he doesn’t want to leave him alone right now. Doyoung and Yuta are passed out on the couch on top of each other, and Taeyong sighs. This is what he gets for being a homebody.

 

“Thanks,” Jaehyun croaks when Taeyong comes back, the bottle cap already unscrewed because there’s no way Jaehyun has the strength to open it by himself. “Can you call Johnny?” he asks, eyes bloodshot. He’s too smashed to notice Taeyong freezing in place.

 

“You want him to pick you up?” Taeyong asks, stupidly, but Jaehyun just nods, very very slowly, because sharp movements are difficult when you’ve (allegedly) chugged most of a bottle of Jameson.

 

Taeyong takes his phone out of his pocket, and it’s with great trepidation that he scrolls through his contacts list and clicks on Johnny Seo’s number. Taeyong’s never had to actually text Johnny before. They went to the same high school with Doyoung, and somehow ended up at the same university, so Taeyong considers them only tangentially acquainted. He can’t even remember how he got Johnny’s number on his phone, considering he can count their conversations on one hand.

 

**To: Johnny Seo [11:48 PM]**

Hi! Uhm is this Johnny Seo’s #? If not I’m really sorry!

 

Taeyong winces after pressing the _send_ button, because _what a stupid first text._ Master of awkwardness, that is Taeyong Lee.

 

**From: Johnny Seo [11:50 PM]**

yeah?

 

Taeyong jolts at the message, and dread settles into his stomach. He really hates talking to strangers.

 

**To: Johnny Seo [11:50 PM]**

It’s Taeyong Lee!

 

**From: Johnny Seo [11:51 PM]**

i know

 

Oh. Okay then. Taeyong bites his lip, trying to decide how to respond next. Jaehyun makes a horrible retching sound from next to him, jerking Taeyong back to the present task.

 

**To: Johnny Seo [11:52 PM]**

Sorry to bother but! Jaehyun is kind of puking his guts out in my bathroom and asked me to ask you if you could pick him up?

 

It’s only after the message has sent that Taeyong realizes how warped that sounds.

 

**From: Johnny Seo [11:53 PM]**

oh

oh yeah, for sure

ill be there in 15

 

Taeyong breathes a sigh of relief, reaching out to pat Jaehyun’s back soothingly.

 

**To: Johnny Seo [11:55 PM]**

Thanks so much!

Drive safe!

 

Johnny shows up in fifteen minutes, as promised, looking spectacularly glorious and Taeyong keeps his eyes resolutely on the floor as he opens the door to let Johnny in.

 

“He’s in the bathroom. He uh… hasn’t thrown up in ten minutes so I’m pretty sure everything is out of his system--” Taeyong rambles, walking through the hall of his apartment, keenly aware of Johnny’s looming presence (and his cologne, _god_ ).

 

The minute Johnny sees Jaehyun, though, his carefully blank expression melts into one of fondness. He kneels next to Jaehyun, running a soothing hand through his hair. “Hey, Batman. How’re you feeling?” Jaehyun nuzzles into Johnny’s hand, letting out a grunt that is easily translated to _not great._ “Let’s get you home, okay?”

 

Taeyong’s heart feels fuzzy, watching the interaction. He knows Johnny and Jaehyun are close, but it’s odd to see Johnny acting so… soft, when everything about him seems anything but. Johnny hooks Jaehyun’s arm around his shoulder and lifts him to his feet with relative ease.

 

“Need help?” Taeyong asks, from his spot in the doorway. Johnny shakes his head, any vestiges of tenderness gone as soon as he has to regard Taeyong. “We’re good.”

 

“Uh. Okay.” Taeyong trails behind them, feeling a little helpless, and opens the door.

 

“Thanks for taking care of him until I got here,” Johnny says, looking directly at Taeyong now. There’s a soft, sincere smile on his face.

 

“It was no problem,” Taeyong says, flailing his arms around. “Really! I just hope he’ll be okay.”

 

“He’ll be fine. He’s just a whiner.”

 

“I want bread…” Jaehyun moans, and Johnny grins, a flash of teeth, before he schools his expression again.

 

“Anyways. Uh. Have a good night, Taeyong.”

 

“You too,” Taeyong says meekly, watching Johnny help Jaehyun hobble down the hallway to the elevator. It’s not until he’s closed the door, cleansed his face, brushed his teeth, and gotten into bed, that he realizes he never gave Johnny his address.

  


\--

  


Taeyong huffs at what could possibly be the millionth time Johnny’s bitten his neck. “I won’t be able to finish this if you don’t let go of me.”

 

“I could just eat you instead,” Johnny suggests, his voice muffled against Taeyong’s skin. Taeyong feels the vibrations of his voice against his back, where Johnny is currently plastered. He clicks his tongue, trying to flip the omelette in the pan while Johnny wraps his arms around Taeyong’s waist in a vice-like grip.

 

He can feel Johnny’s erection against his ass, obvious and insistent, given the thin material of the sweatpants he’d changed into, almost like an afterthought. Taeyong’s not much better, still in Johnny’s sweatshirt and thin briefs. Taeyong kind of wants to grind back against him. But. The omelette.

 

“But I worked so hard on this,” Taeyong scolds, his shoulder jerking up when Johnny’s teeth dig into the flesh, stinging in the best way. He doesn’t need to look in the mirror to know that most of his body is probably littered with bruises and bite marks.

 

“We can eat it later,” Johnny says, gripping Taeyong tighter the more he squirms. Taeyong’s whole body flushes, and it would be stupid to deny his own arousal.

 

“Are you sure Jaehyun isn’t coming home tonight?” Taeyong asks, worried about being caught in a compromising position. Johnny’s whole body tenses, and Taeyong wonders frantically if he’s said something wrong. It had been an implicit agreement to keep their… meetings between the two of them. Anyways, Taeyong is pretty certain Johnny wouldn’t want anyone to know he’s been fucking some nobody biochem major.

 

“I’m sure.” Johnny’s voice is tight, and it seems like he’s going to say something more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he presses his face into Taeyong’s neck, inhaling deeply. “It’s just us.”

  


\--

  


It’s about two in the morning when Taeyong’s phone vibrates. He looks away from his laptop screen, pausing what is probably the fifteenth Buzzfeed: Unsolved video of the night, and reaches for his phone. He frowns at the notification, reading **_Johnny Seo: [image attached]_** on his lock screen.

 

Taeyong tries to come up with a scenario where Johnny Seo, of all people, could be texting him in the middle of the night on what is technically a Sunday now. He unlocks his phone with trepidation and opens his chat with Johnny. Then he drops his phone.

 

Taeyong blinks at the wall in front of him, trying to process. Slowly, he reaches for his phone again and stares at the image. That’s a dick.

 

“That’s a dick,” Taeyong says out loud, before darting his eyes around the room. The odds of Doyoung or Yuta having heard him is extremely low, but he’s still paranoid. Surreptitiously, he looks at the image again. That’s definitely a dick. A very nice dick, he might add, but a dick nonetheless.

 

Why did Johnny Seo send him a picture of his dick? (Taeyong is assuming this is Johnny’s dick. Johnny is beautiful, it only makes sense for him to have a beautiful dick also.) He’s too shocked to even consider being aroused at the sight, so he stares at it in abject fascination, wondering whether he’s entered the Twilight Zone.

 

Then his phone vibrates.

 

**From: Johnny Sep [2:09 AM]**

shit sorry meant to send tht to sm1 else

kinda durunk rn so

 

Oh. Of course. In all of Taeyong’s twenty-two years, he has never been the recipient of an unsolicited dick pic, but naturally, the one time he is, it’s from a very very gorgeous man, and it’s an accident. Naturally.

 

**To: Johnny Seo [2:10 AM]**

It’s ok! No worries

 

_Ugh._

 

He’s about to do the Morally Right Thing and delete the picture when his phone vibrates again.

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:11 AM]**

rnt u gonna send 1 back?

 

_What?_

 

“What?” Taeyong says out loud, before looking around suspiciously again. He really needs to stop talking to himself out loud like this.

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:12 AM]**

thats usually what ppl do when sm1 sends a dick pic ;)))))

 

Taeyong blinks rapidly at the screen, wondering if this is some sort of hallucination, a byproduct of spending three hours on physics homework followed by a Youtube stress binge. He’s so wrapped up in his thoughts that the next incoming text makes him jerks in surprise.

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:14 AM]**

(u totally dont have to if u dont want to tho)

 

**To: Johnny Seo [2:14 AM]**

Aren’t you drunk?

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:15 AM]**

not drunk enough to not know what i want ;)

n i def wouldnt mind if u sent me a lil smth

 

Okay, this is extremely bizarre. Johnny Seo is propositioning him for nudes. Taeyong takes a deep breath. “I can handle this,” he says aloud, because he _can,_ dammit. He’s no stranger to sexting. In fact, he considers himself to be pretty good at it. (Taeyong is good at useless things, mostly.) In this modern age, Taeyong thinks that sexting is a very useful tool for foreplay, and he’s utilized it often. There’s no reason why he can’t give Johnny Seo a taste of his own medicine, that jerk.

 

(Taeyong isn’t sure if Johnny is actually a jerk. He looks like he’d be a jerk. He’s trying to sext Taeyong in the middle of the night, as though he does this all the time, and Taeyong is just convenient. Probably a jerk. Definitely a jerk.)

 

**To: Johnny Seo [2:17 AM]**

That’s pretty bold considering you haven’t exactly done anything to deserve it

 

Taeyong blinks at the screen, and the typing bubble appearing and disappearing for the next two minutes. Slowly, he finds himself smirking. His heart is racing, his fingers shaking, but there’s something extremely satisfying about making Johnny Seo speechless. The best part about sexting is that it’s stress-free and generally inconsequential.

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:20 AM]**

wow thats cold :(

guess ill have to one up myself

 

Taeyong smothers a delirious giggle into the sleeve of his hoodie and waits to see what Johnny’s going to do.

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:24 AM]**

[video attached]

 

Taeyong clicks on the video with his heart in his throat, lowering the volume immediately once he hears the loud feedback. Johnny’s got his phone camera facing towards him, and at this angle, Taeyong gets a spectacular view of Johnny’s abs, and bites his lip when Johnny takes his dick out of his low-slung sweatpants, starting to stroke it to full hardness.

 

Taeyong watches, entranced, as Johnny’s beautiful fingers work his cock, letting out low, breathy noises of pleasure. Amidst the slow burn of arousal, Taeyong notices the dark markings of a tattoo, down the left side of Johnny’s abs, and _oh god,_ that’s really hot. As if Johnny couldn’t get any sexier.

 

The video cuts abruptly, and Taeyong stares at his phone until the screen goes dark. He scrambles to unlock it in time for Johnny’s next message.

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:27 AM]**

so?

do i get a pic now? ;)

 

Taeyong wants to roll his eyes at the truly obnoxious use of the winky face emoji, but he’s too busy trying to keep himself from typing out _I want to choke on your dick please._

 

**To: Johnny Seo [2:28 AM]**

Wait.

 

Taeyong hops off his bed and goes to his drawers, digging through the bottom drawer until he finds what he’s looking for. He pulls down his boxers and pulls on lilac-colored silk boyshorts, his favorite pair, because they make him feel soft and needy. Hurriedly, he tugs off his hoodie and drops it on the floor too. He goes to his door and makes sure it’s locked (he’s not taking any chances), before getting back into bed.

 

He grabs his phone, switching to the front-facing camera, and moves around a bit, trying to find the most flattering angle. Presentation is everything. Eventually, he gets a picture of himself with his legs splayed out, the outline of his erection just barely visible through the loose silk of his underwear, his thin sleep shirt shoved up to his chin.

 

Taeyong’s fingers are shaking as he sends the picture. His body looks great, and he knows it. The typing bubble appears and disappears again, for a good two minutes, and Taeyong rolls over onto his stomach, grinning.

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:40 AM]**

are those nipple piercings?

 

**To: Johnny Seo [2:40 AM]**

Yes. Problem?

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:41 AM]**

no. def no problem.

fuck thats rlly hot

 

Taeyong giggles again, feeling his face flush with heat.

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:42 AM]**

ive heard when u get them pierced they get sensitive

 

**To: Johnny Seo [2:43 AM]**

Mine are sensitive to begin with but

After I got them pierced they got more sensitive

I can come just from that if you do it right

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:44 AM]**

fuck

i’d love to get my mouth on them

i bet youd be so loud

 

Taeyong’s toes curl in pleasure, and he rolls onto his back so he can slip his hand under the waistband of his underwear and stroke his dick slowly.

 

**To: Johnny Seo [2:45 AM]**

I’m a screamer

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:46 AM]**

jesus christ

 

Taeyong smirks, thumbing the head of his cock. He shivers at the sensation, waiting for Johnny to continue.

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:47 AM]**

guess ill have to shut u up somehow

 

**To: Johnny Seo [2:48 AM]**

I don’t have a gag reflex, so

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:48 AM]**

god how are u even real

i wanna shove my cock down your throat

 

**To: Johnny Seo [2:49 AM]**

Please

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:49 AM]**

you want me to fuck your mouth?

like sucking cock that much?

 

**To: Johnny Seo [2:50 AM]**

It’s my second favorite thing

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:50 AM]**

and the first?

 

Taeyong gasps, feeling his muscles coil from the oncoming climax. It’s hard keeping his phone up with one hand and typing, but he ignores it.

 

**To: Johnny Seo [2:51 AM]**

Getting pinned down and having my ass fucked by your thick cock <3

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:51 AM]**

id fuck you so well baby

 

Taeyong drops his phone, pulling down the hem of his boyshorts, before coming all over his chest. He moans softly, the heels of his feet pressing down into the mattress as he rides the orgasm through. Slowly, his body sinks back into the sheets, and he feels pleasantly buzzed.

 

For a minute, he forgets he’s just been sexting, until his phone vibrates again. Huffing, he grapples blindly and unlocks his phone.

 

**From: Johnny Seo [2:55 AM]**

[video attached]

 

Taeyong grins, because he already has an idea of what this is. He’s pleased to be right, watching the video of Johnny pumping his dick, faster and faster. His groans are low and rough, but a little more reckless than before. Taeyong licks his lips, watching Johnny’s cock pulse until he’s coming all over his abs, painting the skin in ropes of white.

 

Taeyong doesn’t think twice, going to his camera app and changing it to the video setting. He hits record and trails his fingers slowly up his stomach, smearing the come all over his skin. When he gets enough on his fingers, he circles one of his nipples, tugging at the bar piercing and letting out a deliberate, low whine. It’s filthy, and he’s getting kind of aroused again, so he hits the stop button.

 

He sends it to Johnny, and that’s when it hits him.

 

“Oh my god,” he whimpers. He’d just sexted Johnny Seo. _Johnny Seo._ He takes his phone and turns it off, then stuffs it under the mattress. “Shit shit shit shit,” he murmurs, frantically pacing around his room, before remembering he’s got half-dried come on his chest. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

 

He grabs clean boxers and a new sleep shirt, before opening his door and slowly peering out into the hall. Taeyong sighs in relief when the coast is clear, and takes a quick shower, trying to scrub the evidence of him being a _huge gigantic slut_ off his body.

 

Then he comes back to his room, turns off his laptop, and buries himself in blankets, wishing desperately not to think of Johnny Seo.

  


\--

  


**From: Johnny Seo [3:00 AM]**

that was so hot

youre so fucking pretty

hands down best sexting orgasm ive ever had lol

  


\--

  


**From: Johnny Seo [3:15 AM]**

im guessing you fell asleep or smth?

if so sweet dreams <3

we should do this again

  


\--

  


**From Johnny Seo [4:03 AM]**

maybe we could meet up?

in person

only if u feel comf w it tho!

  


\--

  


“So.” Doyoung leans across the table, his eyes narrowed like he’s out for blood. Taeyong shrinks back into his chair, gripping his insulated lunch bag tightly, shooting Yuta a helpless look, but the asshole just shrugs. “When are we gonna meet your boyfriend?”

 

Taeyong’s eyebrows immediately furrow. “My boyfriend? I don’t--”

 

“We know you like your privacy and all that but like. It’s been months. We’re your best friends, we should at least get a _name,_ ” Yuta drawls.

 

Taeyong looks between the two men. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” He tries to enunciate the words so they come across perfectly clear. Distantly, he thinks about Johnny, and tries to busy himself by pulling out the lunches he’s packed for Doyoung and Yuta, putting the containers in front of them, and utensils neatly to the side.

 

Doyoung and Yuta shoot each other a look. For how much they’re at each other’s throats, they’re scarily in sync. “You disappear during the weekends? You’re always texting someone with that goofy smile on your face?” Doyoung raises an eyebrow, judgemental.

 

From next to him, Yuta’s face clears in understanding. “Oh my god, are you hooking up with people, Taeyong? I mean, I knew you were a slut but--” He grunts when Doyoung elbows him in the stomach.

 

“It’s just one,” Taeyong mumbles, shoulders coming up in defense. He winces down at his own food, realizing he’s just given himself away. It’s not like they wouldn’t have found out anyway. Taeyong likes to be at home unless absolutely necessary, so naturally, his friends would notice when he’s not there.

 

“I’m sorry, what?” Doyoung frowns, looking concerned in that maternal way of his. “You’ve been hooking up with one person for months?”

 

“Aren’t there, like, rules? For the maximum amount of time you’re allowed to hook up with a person without it getting weird?”

 

Taeyong feels that painfully familiar anxiety creeping into his veins, and suddenly, he’s completely lost his appetite. “It’s not weird. I know what I’m doing.” Both Doyoung and Yuta know, when Taeyong’s voice sounds particularly brittle, not to pry any further. But the damage is already done, because Taeyong’s mind is racing a mile a minute. His body feels too hot, his vision blurry.

 

“Guys!” Taeyong jolts a little, hearing Jaehyun’s voice from behind him. He turns to look, and immediately regrets it, because Jaehyun is walking up to their table, followed by Sicheng, Johnny, and Taeil. Johnny’s got his arm around Taeil, face bright with a smile as he listens to whatever Taeil is saying. Taeyong feels like he’s going to throw up.

 

“What’s up?” Jaehyun asks, plopping down next to Doyoung. Sicheng sits down next to Taeyong’s right, leaving the two empty chairs on Taeyong’s left. Fuck. Taeyong stares down resolutely at his food, and he doesn’t even have to look up to know Johnny’s taken the seat right next to him. His cologne smells suffocatingly nice, and Taeyong tries to breathe at regular intervals.

 

“Hey,” Johnny says softly. Taeyong looks at him, and he feels an anxious burning at the back of his eyelids. He manages a tight smile in Johnny’s direction, before turning his gaze away. Even after all this time, he doesn’t know how to act in front of Johnny in public, in front of their friends.

 

“Johnny, I saw the new post on Insta,” Yuta says, leaning forward on his elbows to place his full attention on the man in question. “Mad cute.” Taeyong doesn’t have to look up to know Johnny’s smiling bashfully, rubbing his neck in that cute way he does whenever someone compliments him. Then, Yuta’s eyes are on him. “Taeyong, have you seen Johnny’s new Instagram page?”

 

Taeyong feels like he’s going to throw up. “Uh. I haven’t.” Truthfully, he tries to stay away from any reminders of Johnny outside of them fucking, because it hurts. It’s been four months, and despite what Taeyong’s just said to his friends, he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. He lives every day in fear that Johnny’s going to text him, say _sorry, it was nice while it lasted, but I think we should end things now._ He doesn’t know what he’s going to do when it happens, inevitably.

 

“You should. It’s super cute,” Doyoung interjects, eyeing Taeyong carefully. Taeyong just shrugs, smiling as convincingly as possible, because he can feel the tension from Johnny’s body.

 

“Taeyong’s probably too busy to look at my dumb pictures,” Johnny says, voice light, and he laughs. Taeyong looks down at his steamed veggies. It makes Taeyong kind of mad, because Johnny’s pictures are the _last_ thing he’d call dumb. But he can’t speak up right now.

 

Taeil says something, Taeyong doesn’t hear, and only Johnny laughs, loud and booming. Johnny tugs Taeil closer, his arm around his neck. Something ugly curls in his gut.

 

“I have to go print something. At the library,” Taeyong says, because he can’t sit here anymore and pretend like he’s not being crushed by the weight of his thoughts. He stands up suddenly, and everyone at the table looks at him curiously. “Sorry, guys.” He packs up his food quickly, and ducks his head, before storming away.

 

Taeyong has gotten really good at running away these days.

  


\--

  


The first time Taeyong meets Johnny to hook up, he’s a bucket of nerves. Sexting is stress-free, and Taeyong is a pro at it, but the actual intercourse part is a little more... evasive. When he’d woken up to Johnny’s texts the morning after, he’d been stunned. Taeyong had been armed with a whole arsenal of excuses as to how this happened. (“It was actually… my evil twin who likes to fuck over all the relationships in my life.”)

 

They weren’t needed, in the end. Because, to Taeyong bafflement, Johnny is… eager? He really seems excited to pursue a sexual relationship with Taeyong, despite Taeyong being… Taeyong.

 

(Sexting doesn’t count, in his mind. His face wasn’t even in any of the pictures or videos he sent. Johnny could have imagined anyone in Taeyong’s place to get off. Texting is just an amalgamation of words, and are completely separate from the actual person. At this point Johnny has probably been hanging out with their friend group long enough to witness the utter shambles of Taeyong’s life.)

 

But then, Johnny’s knocking on the door, and Taeyong’s answering it. “Hi,” Johnny says, looking completely cool and casual, with his hands in the pockets of his joggers. Meanwhile, Taeyong is a bundle of nerves.

 

“Hi,” Taeyong manages to say back, stepping back to let Johnny into the apartment. “Uhm--”

 

(He was going to awkwardly fumble around conversation until Johnny got tired of him and decided this was absolutely not worth his time.)

 

But Johnny’s crowding him against the door, his body blissfully warm in the autumn chill, a solid weight against Taeyong, and he all but melts back. “I wanted to do this for a long time,” Johnny says, his voice rough around the edges, before pressing in for a filthy kiss.

 

Taeyong doesn’t remind Johnny that they started sexting exactly six days ago, because his brain goes totally offline at the sweep of Johnny’s tongue against the seam of his mouth. He just moans shakily, wrapping his arms around Johnny’s neck and scrambling to get both legs to wind around Johnny’s torso.

 

He gets lifted up by the thighs, and the whine he lets out should be embarrassing, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on his desperate slut tendencies, because Johnny’s locking his body in his arms with minimal effort, and walking until they fall down in a tangle of limbs on the couch.

 

Taeyong wonders how it’s possible, to drop all his inhibitions when he’s being touched like this. It happens in hindsight, though, because in the moment, all he can think about is Johnny’s dick and how he’s going to convince his gorgeous man to fuck his mouth with it.

 

By the end of the night, Johnny’s fucked him twice. (The first time, he comes all over Taeyong face with a groan. The second time, he rubs the head of his cock against Taeyong’s nipples and piercings and gets come all over Taeyong’s chest and throat.)

 

“So…” Johnny starts. They’ve both been silent for the last couple minutes, lying on their backs on Taeyong’s bed and trying to catch their breath. “We should definitely do that again.”

 

Taeyong turns his head to look at Johnny, who looks fucked out and smug. His own lips tug up into a smile. “Better in person than over text?”

 

“Both are fucking awesome,” Johnny says without missing a beat. He smirks at Taeyong. “But if I can have the real thing…”

 

Taeyong shoves Johnny’s arm playfully, scoffing, before getting up and grabbing his shirt from the floor. He tugs his boxers back on and looks expectantly at Johnny. “My schedule is kinda busy, so... I dunno if I’ll be free when you want to--” he does a vague gesture between the two of them.

 

“Mine is a lot more flexible,” Johnny says immediately, finally getting out of Taeyong’s bed, pulling on his clothes. Taeyong watches, lip between his teeth, as Johnny’s glorious body gets covered up again. He grabs his phone from on top of Taeyong’s nightstand and pockets it, before smiling softly.

 

Taeyong walks Johnny to the door, and is perfectly ready to give him a smile and never talk to him as long as they both shall live, but Johnny hesitates at the threshold. “You should… text me, some time. Let me know when you’re not busy.”

 

“Oh. Sure,” Taeyong finds himself saying. Johnny looks so sincere, and for a second, Taeyong actually believes this might go past a badly thought out one night stand.

  


\--

  


“Stop taking pictures of me eating challenge,” Taeyong says dryly, and Johnny lowers the camera sheepishly. “What are you even doing?”

 

Johnny is actually… blushing? How cute. (Taeyong is finding out, rather quickly, how cute Johnny is. His initial impression of Johnny being a jerk is totally ruined. Johnny makes terrible jokes, kisses Taeyong’s hair after they fuck, and always offers him a ride home.)

 

“I’m taking pictures of you…”

 

Taeyong raises his eyebrows, chewing thoughtfully on his granola bar. “But why?”

 

Johnny pouts immediately. “Because you’re so cute. And photogenic. It’s scary, babe.”

 

At that, Taeyong rolls his eyes. That’s one of the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard. “I bet I look really sexy eating--” He pauses to read the label. “Trader Joe’s Crunchy and Chewy Trail Mix Bars with Cranberries and Almonds.”

 

Johnny swipes the bar out of his hand and takes a bite, ignoring Taeyong’s indignant squawk. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” he says sagely, laughing when Taeyong snatches the bar back, shoving the last bit into his mouth. He gets up from the sofa to toss the wrapper, and when he gets back, Johnny’s staring down at his camera.

 

“I wanna do a project,” Johnny says suddenly. Taeyong looks at him, head tilted inquisitively. “It’s for a class, we’re supposed to utilize social media.”

 

“You already do that,” Taeyong says wryly, thinking of the hundred thousand (and counting) followers Johnny has on his Instagram, aptly named _Johntography._

 

“Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I was hoping you could help me.” Taeyong frowns, because Johnny is awfully blase about his own incredible talent and vision.

 

“Me? I don’t know anything about photography.”

 

Johnny grins, all teeth and gums. “Well it’s your lucky day, because I’ll be handling that part.” Taeyong rolls his eyes, fighting the smile. “You wouldn’t have to do anything. Just keep letting me take pictures of you.”

 

“Are you gonna post them?” Taeyong asks, hesitant.  


“I won’t show your face in them. No one has to know it’s you.” _Because that would be a disaster,_ Taeyong thinks bitterly. “I’ll let you look at them before I post them too, if you want.”

 

“Ah, no it’s fine. I trust you.” For a moment, he’s struck by the weight of the words, because it’s true. He trusts Johnny, implicitly. He doesn’t want to see the pictures, because he’ll look horrible in them anyway, it’ll be embarrassing, and he doesn’t know why Johnny would pick him, of everyone, to model, when there’s probably a line out the door anyway.

 

“Yay!” Johnny cheers, putting his precious film camera on the coffee table, before throwing himself on top of Taeyong.

 

“ _God--”_ Taeyong chokes, flailing around, because Johnny is a solid one hundred and ninety pounds of bone and muscle, and Taeyong doesn’t get enough calcium in his body to sustain that kind of weight. “Celebratory selfie!” Johnny insists, digging out his phone and snapping pictures of them.

 

“I wasn’t ready!” Taeyong yelps, because he’s pretty sure his face resembles an abstract painting in the photos. Johnny just laughs, loud and deep, finally getting off Taeyong, only to pull him into his lap. “ _Johnny!_ ” Taeyong whines, burying his face into Johnny’s shoulder. “God, you’re the worst.”

 

“You _love_ me,” Johnny teases, but Taeyong doesn’t respond. His hands tighten instinctively around Johnny’s neck, and suddenly, he’s aware of all the places their bodies are touching. It’s harder and harder to keep his hands off Johnny. Being pressed together like this feels as easy and natural as breathing, but suddenly, Taeyong feels like he’s in another dimension.

 

Johnny’s joking, of course, but Taeyong feels like he’s been laid bare. He’s not in love with Johnny ( _yet,_ he thinks, and the word echoes around in his head), but there are feelings. Strong feelings, that he shouldn’t be feeling for his… friend with benefits? Are they friends even? They never talked about it. Taeyong doesn’t know.

 

“Okay, selfie time is over,” Johnny says, clearly trying to fill the space from Taeyong’s silence.

 

Taeyong sighs, allowing himself five more seconds of being wrapped up in Johnny’s arms before pulling away. “I should go,” Taeyong murmurs, stroking the slope of Johnny’s jaw slowly.

 

The look in Johnny’s eyes is indecipherable, and Taeyong doesn’t have enough strength in him to try. “Yeah,” is all he says, the previous playful mood gone. “It’s getting late, anyway.”

  


\--

  


The thing about Taeyong is that he has problems. He knows this, and he’s kind of working on it, but it’s hard, when most of the time, he’s stressed out about an assignment or an exam or just the dark void that is his future. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, majoring in biochemistry. A death wish, really. But he did it, because he knows he _can,_ if he tries hard enough and gives himself time to cry himself to sleep sometimes.

 

But often times, the stress and burden roll over into everything. They color his perceptions, his ability to communicate with others, and sometimes just… existing is hard. He doesn’t tell Doyoung or Yuta, because they’ve got problems of their own, and Taeyong hates being a burden to others more than anything. Because of this, it’s almost hilariously easy for him to tip over the edge.

 

Which is why, on a very cold Wednesday night, he finds himself sitting on a swing in a park close to campus, because if he goes home, he’s going to cry in front of whoever is home, and that’s just… not what he wants right now.

 

He stares down at his phone, reading the text from his mother over and over again until the words blur together. _Dad’s in the hospital. He fell at work._ Taeyong has to put his phone in his hoodie pocket so he can bury his face in both his hands. He knows he needs to call his mom eventually, to comfort her, figure out what to do next, but first, he needs to let himself fall apart.

 

“Taeyong?”

 

Oh god, he knows that voice anywhere. Of all the places to run into Johnny Seo, why did it have to be _here_ and _now?_ That thought pulls a sob right out of him, and he hears feet crunching on the wood chips.

 

“Taeyong.” Johnny’s voice is calm, soothing. His hands grip Taeyong’s wrists to pull his hands down, and it makes Taeyong cry even harder, shoulders shaking now with the force of his tears. “Oh, baby, shh, it’s okay.” Johnny’s kneeling now, pulling Taeyong’s face to his shoulder.

 

And Taeyong just cries and cries, because Johnny smells like home and comfort and trust, and they’re only supposed to be fucking, but now, Taeyong just leans all his weight forward and lets Johnny hold him, mutter soft words into his ear and stroke his hair. Taeyong shatters in Johnny’s arms, knowing Johnny will hold him together.

 

Eventually, Taeyong runs out of tears, and the weight of his sadness fades enough for him to realize Johnny’s probably in a really uncomfortable position. He pulls back slowly, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie. Johnny’s thumbs brush at the tear tracks on Taeyong’s face. “Sorry,” Taeyong mumbles.

 

Johnny’s smile is wide and dramatic. “My knees are fucked,” he says honestly, and it wrestles a laugh out of Taeyong, despite everything. “You could have cried on the bench, Taeyong. At least there’s grass underneath.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong repeats, and his smile is watery at best. Johnny straightens up with a lot of moaning, and pulls Taeyong up with him. Taeyong notices the skateboard at Johnny’s feet, and looks up. “What are you doing here?”

 

Johnny shrugs, leading Taeyong to the bench. “Just wanted some air.” When they sit down, Johnny immediately pulls Taeyong to his side, their legs tangling naturally. “Why are you out here, babe?”

 

“Bad day,” Taeyong chooses to say. Already, more tears are welling up in his eyes, just thinking about it. _Ugh._ He hates feeling weak.

 

“I’ll say. You wanna talk about it?”

 

More importantly, Taeyong doesn’t like displaying his weaknesses in front of others. Maybe it’s his pride, maybe it’s just embarrassing, but nothing makes him feel worse than looking anything less than perfectly put together in front of everyone. If he has a problem, he wants to fix it before anyone else notices and can judge him for it.

 

Sometimes, though, it feels like the problems are too big to fix on his own. Like there’s no way he could possibly repair the cracks in his existence. But Johnny had let Taeyong cry on him for a solid ten minutes, and hadn’t looked at Taeyong with pity or derision. “My dad’s in the hospital,” he says eventually.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby.” Johnny presses a kiss to Taeyong’s temple. “What happened?”

 

Taeyong sniffles, feeling the tears welling up in his eyes _again_ just from thinking about it. “He… fell at work, that’s what my mom said. He’s a construction worker. Manual labor. He’s getting really old, and he’s not… built for that kind of thing anymore. He’s so stubborn but every day, I worry that he’s going to hurt himself.”

 

Johnny just holds him closer, fending off the cold air. “I need to call my mom soon, but I just. I’m so scared, Johnny.”

 

“What are you scared of?”

 

Taeyong sniffles again, pressing his nose into Johnny’s jacket. “That he’ll be really hurt. That he won’t be able to work again. That’s he’ll go back to work and get hurt _again._ That I won’t make enough to support them and pay my student loans at the same time. I feel like such a disappointment sometimes, I just want to be able to take care of them but I can’t even do that because I’m on the other side of the country and wasting their money and--”

 

He can’t keep talking, the words stuck in his throat, and he’s not even sure if anything he said even makes sense. Johnny buries his face into Taeyong’s hair, sighing.

 

“Life’s so scary, sometimes,” he says. Taeyong curls his fingers into the material of his jacket. “I don’t… really know what to say, Tae. I’m not in your shoes. That just sounds scary. I’m sorry.”

 

“This is so embarrassing,” Taeyong mumbles, feeling dizzy.

 

Johnny turns so he can frown at him. “What’s embarrassing?”

 

Taeyong shrugs. “Me crying. I feel so dumb.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with crying, Taeyong. Everybody has weaknesses. Everybody has bad days.”

 

“Even you?” Taeyong asks wryly.

 

Johnny’s mouth lifts up. “Wanna know something terrible?” Taeyong pulls away to look at Johnny properly. “When I was a second year, I was working in the dark room on campus, to develop some film. There are these chemicals you have to use, right?” Taeyong nods, because Johnny’s explained the process to him before, in a moment of absolute nerdiness, while he was showing Taeyong some of the shots he’d recently developed.

 

“They’re super corrosive and toxic. I poured them down the sink. When my professor asked me if I put them in the hazardous waste bottle I totally freaked out.”

 

“Oh no,” Taeyong says, wide-eyed, because as an actual biochemistry major, he _knows_ how bad that can be.

 

“I thought I was gonna poison the whole city, and that thousands of people were gonna die, cuz I was a dumbass. My professor was so angry too, he really threatened to kick me out of the major.” Johnny laughs, shaking his head like it’s a fond memory. If Taeyong was in his shoes, though, he probably would have had a nervous breakdown.

 

“Johnny,” Taeyong murmurs, taken aback. Johnny just smiles, taking Taeyong’s hands in his and kissing his knuckles.

 

“That was probably one of the worst days of my life,” Johnny admits. “I still think about it sometimes, when I can’t sleep at night. It’s… not the same as your situation but… I guess what I’m trying to say is that everybody has those rough spots.”

 

“My whole life is a rough spot,” Taeyong says bitterly.

 

“Let me help you, Taeyong. You don’t have to do all this alone.”

 

“I can’t-- I can’t ask that of you.” The guilt weighs in Taeyong’s stomach heavily, eyes starting to water again, because he’s _pathetic pathetic pathetic._

 

“Yes, you can. You’re allowed to ask people for help.” Johnny presses another kiss to Taeyong’s fingers. “Especially when a fine, astute gentleman, such as I, so graciously offered--”

 

“Shut _up--_ ” Taeyong groans, shoving Johnny, but he’s giggling too much for it to have any real bite. Johnny grins, wrapping around Taeyong like an koala. Taeyong curls into his chest, content to stay that way for a few minutes.

 

“Call your mom,” Johnny says eventually, voice warm. “I can stay with you, if you want.”

 

Taeyong really doesn’t want to be alone, and for the first time in his life, he lets himself do something about it. “Please.”

  


\--

  


“What do you want to do when you graduate?” Taeyong asks. He’s got his head pillowed on Johnny’s arm, nose pressed into Johnny’s throat. These are the moments he likes best. More than the actual sex, he likes the part afterwards, when his body’s thrumming with endorphins, and Johnny holds him close, like he’s someone precious and important.

 

“I dunno. Depends on where inspiration takes me, I guess,” Johnny says drowsily. Taeyong traces the curve of his mouth with a finger, and Johnny nips at it playfully. “I’d like to travel though. See the world. Go on adventures.”

 

Taeyong hums, running his hand down Johnny’s jaw, the column of his throat, down his chest, to the inky design of his tattoo. Taeyong likes it so much, the artful imprint of a cherry blossom tree in full bloom, its trunk black and brown, but the flowers are in watercolor pink. (“It’s pretty,” Johnny had explained, with one of his easygoing shrugs, because making decisions like this are always so simple for him.)

 

“What about you?”

 

“I got a job offer. From the biomed company I’m interning at now.”

 

“That’s _awesome,_ ” Johnny says, and to his credit, he sounds totally sincere.

 

Taeyong snorts. “It’s not exciting or anything, but I like what I’m doing. And it’s stable. They’re gonna pay for me to do my Master’s.” And it’s another reminder of how incredibly incompatible they are. Johnny’s going to go explore the world, while Taeyong works a nine-to-five and tries to pay his bills.

 

“You should be proud of that,” Johnny says, pressing his lips to Taeyong’s hair. Taeyong doesn’t feel proud. He doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Nothing he does is ever enough. “I know next to nothing about STEM stuff but I know it’s not an easy thing to do.”

 

Taeyong hums, because he doesn’t want to bring the mood down with his dark, swirling thoughts. “I want to buy my parents a house,” he confesses quietly.

 

Johnny is silent for a moment, and Taeyong is afraid he’s fallen asleep. (Taeyong is horrifically boring, after all.)

 

Then, “You will.” Johnny shifts a little so he can pull Taeyong closer, until Taeyong’s half on top of him. “I know you will.”

 

“What makes you so sure?” The insecurity bleeds into Taeyong’s voice and he winces. He really hates himself in these moments, seeking validation from Johnny that really doesn’t make a difference in the end.

 

“You’re Taeyong Lee. You can do anything.”

 

And for a moment, Taeyong allows himself to believe it. So he leans up and kisses Johnny, open-mouthed and wanton, until Johnny’s rolling them over, pressing Taeyong into the mattress, and ready for another round.

  


\--

  


It’s hard, pretending Taeyong is hardly friends with someone who he knows inside and out, who knows the deepest, darkest fears in Taeyong’s heart. It’s hard to watch Johnny from the other side of the table, whispering something to Taeil, draping himself all over his friend when just last night, he’d done the same to Taeyong--

 

Taeyong squeezes his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on his physiology lab assignment. Petty jealousy, especially for someone as sweet as Taeil, is really beneath Taeyong. But they’re in the _library,_ for god's sake, they should at least pretend to be studying, instead of doing… whatever they’re doing.

 

It’s in these moments when Taeyong wonders why they decided to keep their relationship a secret. Then he remembers that they’re technically just… fucking. Being familiar with Johnny means explaining how they started talking, then the inevitable judgment from their friends. Because again, why would someone like Johnny want to sleep with someone like Taeyong anyway? He’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Johnny to get bored, get annoyed, and move on. How would he explain that to his friends without being absolutely humiliated?

 

With a huff, Taeyong gets out of his chair. Taeil and Johnny look up, and he just smiles tightly. “Just need some air,” he says, before turning in the direction opposite of the entrance. _Idiot._

 

Taeyong wanders down the rows of shelves until he’s so far back in the aisles that no one is around. He goes between two shelves and leans his forehead against the cool metal. It’s getting harder and harder, pretending nothing is wrong, working overtime to keep every aspect of his life in balance.

 

“Taeyong?” He jerks back, staring at Johnny, who’s approaching him with a concerned frown.

 

“What are you doing here?” Taeyong hisses.

 

“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” Johnny says, body unusually tense. “You don’t look good.”

 

There’s no one around, but Taeyong’s eyes dart around nervously. “You shouldn’t have followed me here.”

 

Johnny frowns, and there’s a glint of anger in his amber eyes. “Why? Are you afraid someone will see?” He closes the distance between them, pressing Taeyong against the shelves.

 

“Johnny-- _mff--_ ” Taeyong’s voice is muffled by a harsh kiss. He wants to push Johnny away, but he melts, like he always does. Johnny’s mouth is a cruel addiction, and he clings on for dear life as Johnny bites his lower lip, runs his hands down Taeyong’s waist and squeeze his ass, rough and possessive.

 

“Are you afraid someone will see me kissing you? What if I fucked you here?” Johnny’s voice is sharp, and his hands grip Taeyong so tight he’ll definitely bruise.

 

“I--” Taeyong is so turned on he’s lightheaded. Johnny leans down to bite Taeyong’s neck, the yellowing hickeys left from last week, and Taeyong barely muffles a yelp. “Johnny, _wait--_ please--” He barely manages to pull Johnny away, and he cradles his face in his hands.

 

Something in Johnny’s expression clears then, and he takes a step back. “Jesus, Taeyong, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking--” He runs his hands through his hair, like he does whenever he’s nervous.

 

Taeyong shakes his head. “It’s okay. It’s fine. Just…” He hesitates for a moment. “If you… wanted to end this, you would tell me, right?”

 

Johnny frowns. “What?”

 

Taeyong scrambles to clarify, after blurted out his thoughts out at the worst time. “I mean like. If you started liking someone. As soon as you realized, you’d tell me? I don’t-- I don’t want to keep you from like… seeing people.”

 

Johnny blinks at Taeyong, processing the words. Then, his face goes carefully blank. Taeyong’s heart drops, because he hasn’t seen Johnny this expressionless since before they started having sex. Taeyong is used to seeing every emotion, clear on his face. This void is terrifying.

 

“Yeah, I guess.” Johnny’s voice is flat too. Taeyong can’t look at him, so he looks at the floor. “You’d do the same, right? If you liked someone, you’d let me know?”

 

“Sure, yeah.” Taeyong shrugs, because it sounds so _ridiculous,_ the idea of liking anyone besides Johnny, of trusting anyone else with his heart and his body and his mind. _What a stupid thing to ask,_ Taeyong thinks bitterly. _I’m in love with you._

 

“If you’re okay, then, I’m gonna head back,” Johnny says. “Might go get lunch with Taeil.” Taeyong winces.

 

“Okay, have fun.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Even when Johnny’s gone, the sick feeling in his gut remains. He slides down to the floor and wonders what he fucked up this time.

  


\--

  


Sometimes Johnny wants only to take Taeyong apart. Sometimes they go so slow, Taeyong feels like he’s going to lose his mind, but Johnny has an iron will, and once he’s got it in his head that he’s going to destroy Taeyong, that’s exactly what he does.

 

Everything around Taeyong is static. All he can feel is Johnny’s breath against his mouth, and his fingers, grinding slow, cruel, circles against Taeyong’s prostate.

 

“Do you like that baby?” Johnny murmurs, watching Taeyong’s expression with rapture and a smugness as Taeyong grinds desperately down against his hand, squirming and writhing in his lap.

 

“ _Y-yes,_ ” Taeyong gasps, gripping Johnny’s hair tighter, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to breathe. He’s not allowed to come until Johnny says he can, but it’s so fucking hard, when he’s being tortured like this. Johnny pulls out his fingers, only to thrust them back into him almost violently, and Taeyong whines, high and loud, letting his head fall back.

 

Johnny kisses the exposed column of his throat, slow and wet, keeping Taeyong in place with his free hand around his waist. “You’re so fucking pretty, Tae, I wish you could see yourself right now,” he murmurs. Taeyong bites his lip, bucking his hips, seeking friction like the desperate slut he is.

 

Johnny kisses Taeyong’s nipples softly, grinning against his skin when Taeyong clenches around him, always so sensitive. Taeyong shakes, unable to hold back the staccato moans at every one of Johnny’s well-aimed thrusts.

 

“Taeyong, look at me.”

 

It takes the remaining bit of his willpower to pry his eyes open, but he manages it, because he’s helpless to any and all of the things Johnny asks of him. Taeyong presses his forehead against Johnny’s, trying to meet his heated gaze. His amber eyes have gone almost completely black with lust, and Taeyong whimpers, feeling completely owned.

 

“Who fucks you best, Taeyong?”

 

Taeyong’s fingers tighten in Johnny’s hair, feeling his heart twist. “ _You_ do,” he manages to choke out, feeling utterly exposed. He circles his hips, trying to get Johnny to fuck him harder. There are tears of humiliation and arousal brimming in his eyes and he jolts when Johnny thrusts his fingers harder into him. “ _You do--”_ he sobs out, because Johnny’s absolutely ruined him for anyone else. When this is over, Taeyong won’t be able to think of anyone else, _see_ anyone else, without thinking of Johnny.

 

 _He’s so cruel,_ Taeyong thinks, as the first tears spill down his cheeks.

 

“You’re _mine,_ Taeyong. Only I get to see you like this. Fuck you. Like. This.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust, and Taeyong cries out, vibrating with the painful pleasure and the desperation and the feeling of utter helplessness of wishing the words were true and knowing it’s just the heat of the moment, _Johnny doesn’t really want me--_

 

“ _I’m yours I’m yours I’m--_ ” His voice breaks into a sharp cry when Johnny stops thrusting and just presses against Taeyong’s prostate, vibrating his fingers in the way he knows will absolutely shatter Taeyong. He sobs, arching his back when the heat and arousal become too much to bear, toes curling into the cushions of the couch. “Please please please let me-- Johnny _please--”_

 

He wants to get away from Johnny, stop this mind-bending pleasure so he can just _breathe,_ and it hurts so good when Johnny just locks him in place. “Shh, baby. I know you can take it,” Johnny murmurs, heartbreakingly tender as he kisses away Taeyong’s tears. “Be good for me.”

 

“I can-- I ca--” Taeyong rambles, eyes rolling to the back of his head when Johnny ducks his head down to latch onto his right nipple, sucking and laving at the skin.

 

“So fucking beautiful, Taeyong. All mine.” Johnny’s words make Taeyong vibrate. He’s not sure he can come away from this entirely sane, because Johnny’s broken him for good. “Let go, baby.”

 

And so Taeyong does, because, in this moment, he only knows to do exactly as Johnny says. His body locks up, and his mind goes blissfully blank as he comes, He hears himself sobbing, feel himself writhing with the intensity of the orgasm, but he’s lost all real awareness of himself, floating and free.

 

“There we go,” Johnny coos, running his free hand through Taeyong’s hair, kissing his temple and his tear-stained cheeks and the corners of his lips. “You’re always so good for me. Perfect.”

 

“Mmm,” is the only noise Taeyong manages to get out. He lets Johnny kiss him, barely registers the sloppy smacking of their lips, the gentle way Johnny slips his fingers out of him. Slowly, he pulls away from Johnny’s hold, sliding down onto the ground between his knees. Taeyong’s come is on Johnny’s shirt, but it seems totally inconsequential right now.

 

His fingers are numb and shaking as he undoes the button and zip of Johnny’s jeans, but finally, he pulls Johnny’s cock free, and takes it into his mouth without preamble. “ _Fuck,_ ” Johnny groans, his head falling back onto the couch.

 

Taeyong moans around him, still on that blissful, high feeling, because there’s nothing he loves more than sucking Johnny’s cock. The weight is hot and perfect in his mouth, the precome salty and bitter and familiar. He takes the length all the way into his mouth, and relaxes his throat, letting Johnny fuck into his mouth.

 

Taeyong knows he must make a sight, naked and flushed in post-orgasmic bliss, between Johnny’s legs with his mouth full of cock, and that just makes him feel even better. He whimpers, gripping Johnny’s thighs for leverage as Johnny keeps thrusting.

 

It doesn’t take much for Johnny to succumb to his own pleasure, coming down Taeyong’s throat without much warning besides a string of hissed curses. Taeyong swallows dutifully, because he’s never cared much for the taste of come, but if it’s Johnny’s he’ll treat it like a five course meal.

 

He pulls away from Johnny’s cock with great reluctance, and it must show, because Johnny’s pulling Taeyong back onto his lap and kissing him, tasting every corner of Taeyong’s mouth until his jaw is sore and he can’t really kiss back anymore.

 

“Are you with me?” Johnny asks, noting Taeyong’s exhaustion now.

 

“Yeah…” Taeyong whispers, because his throat has been fucked raw, and the high is definitely wearing off. Now he’s just impossibly exhausted and sore and shaky. His body wracks with shivers, and he tucks his face into the crook of Johnny’s neck.

 

“You’re tired.” It’s not really a question. Taeyong gets tired pretty easily after sex, but this is a different kind-- it’s bone-deep. Final exams were over, but Taeyong had spent most of that time subsisting of coffee and granola bars, running on a few measly hours of sleep a night. Often times, he couldn’t fall asleep unless he called Johnny, who had his own exams and projects and assignments to worry about, but he always stayed on the phone for some bizarre reason, rambling until Taeyong relaxed enough to fall asleep.

 

So Taeyong doesn’t say anything. He just lets Johnny pick him up and take him to the bathroom. Johnny and Jaehyun’s apartment is a lot nicer than Taeyong’s and it has a bathtub that he’s always eyed enviously every time he’s in here. Johnny sits Taeyong down gently on the edge and sets about filling it up. He lets Taeyong pick the honey-scented bath salts, and helps Taeyong lower himself into the blissfully warm water.

 

“If I had a bathtub, I’d never leave,” Taeyong says, smiling softly as Johnny tosses his shirt and sits down on the floor beside him.

 

“I don’t use it nearly as much as I probably should,” Johnny admits, leaning his arms on the ledge and resting his chin on them.

 

“A crime,” Taeyong teases.

 

“I should be arrested,” Johnny agrees easily, watching Taeyong as he settles back, closing his eyes. It’s quiet for a while, save for the sound of water rippling with Taeyong’s movements.

 

Taeyong opens one eye, only to find Johnny still staring at him with an odd look in his eyes. “Do you wanna join me?”

 

Johnny grins. “If I get in with you the tub will break for sure.” That makes Taeyong snort, an ugly little thing that makes him slap a hand over his nose and mouth. Johnny laughs at Taeyong’s obvious embarrassment, eyes wrinkling at the corners. Taeyong thinks Johnny looks absolutely gorgeous when he’s laughing. “You’re adorable.”

 

Taeyong sighs, closing his eyes again. “Yes, keep showering me with praise.”

 

“You’re beautiful.” Johnny’s voice sounds strangely thick, so Taeyong opens his eyes, frowning.

 

“Johnny--”

 

“No, seriously. You’re so beautiful. Like. You’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

 

Taeyong blinks at Johnny, wondering if this is just one of his fucked out delusions. But Johnny is still there in front of him, with that sincere look in his eyes, and Taeyong wants to just submerge his head into the water so he doesn’t have to face the weight of Johnny’s gaze.

 

“Jeez, Johnny--”

 

“Wait--” Johnny scrambles to his feet and darts out of the bathroom. Taeyong huffs, fighting the heat blooming on his face. He already knows what’s coming, before Johnny bursts back into the bathroom with his film camera. Taeyong lets Johnny arrange his limbs in the bathtub with fondness, because Johnny’s weird fascination with taking photos of Taeyong in the most mundane moments is strange but adorable.

 

Johnny takes several carefully angled pictures of Taeyong’s body in the water, his legs curled up, the water rippling on the surface to distort what’s underneath the surface. A small part of Taeyong wonders whether he should be worried about his body, in all its vulnerable ways, posted on the internet for everybody to see. But then he remembers that no one will ever know it’s him anyway, so it doesn’t matter.

 

Johnny only stops when Taeyong yawns, his eyes slipping shut from exhaustion. “Tired?”

 

“Yeah,” Taeyong mumbles. The water’s getting cold now, and he should really get up, but his limbs feel like lead, and he has no will to move.

 

“I don’t feel comfortable with you going home like this, Taeyong.”

 

Taeyong makes a noise at the back of his throat. “It’s okay. ‘S fine.” And then everything slowly goes black.

  


\--

  


When Taeyong wakes up, it’s really obvious where he is. The sheets smell like Johnny, the pillow under his head smells like Johnny, he’s in Johnny’s _clothes--_

 

And then, there’s the small fact of being face to face with a sleeping Johnny, his face soft and open during sleep, his inky hair flopping over his forehead. He looks so… vulnerable, so much younger, and Taeyong’s chest feels so tight.

 

Tentatively, he reaches forward and brushes the hair off Johnny’s forehead. He freezes when Johnny sniffs, murmuring something in his sleep, before going still. On the nightstand, directly in Taeyong’s field of vision, the alarm clock reads 3:13 AM in bright red.

 

The realization sets in. Then the panic.

 

He’s never slept over at Johnny’s place before. The thing about being fuckbuddies (or friends with benefits, or _whatever the fuck_ they are) is that there are rules. Fuck, then leave, being the first in a pretty straightforward list. Distantly, Taeyong is aware that they’ve been bending most of those rules for a while now.

 

Johnny’s bed is so warm and inviting, his embrace even more so. Taeyong wants so badly to just stay here, to wake up in the morning and make breakfast together. To spend the day out and about, holding hands in public and not being afraid of anything. But that’s just a really cruel fantasy. And the way Johnny had _looked_ at him, the things he’s said, just fed Taeyong’s delusion.

 

This is the last straw.

 

He knows he’s been teetering on the edge of disaster for a while now, but he’s reached his limit. He can’t keep hurting himself like this, living in fear, walking on glass.

 

Taeyong doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels the salty bitterness on his tongue. Carefully, he extracts himself from Johnny’s hold. He creeps around the room, putting on his clothes, and tries not to think of anything besides the idea that he _has_ to do this, he has to leave. He has to protect himself, somehow, before this problem becomes too much for him to handle on his own.

 

He slips out of the house quietly, though he knows no one is going to catch him-- with Jaehyun dating Sicheng, he’s at his own place less and less, which was convenient for Taeyong before, but now. Well.

 

It’s absolutely freezing when Taeyong steps outside. It’s too late to catch a bus, so he knows he’s just going to have to brave the twenty minute walk back to his own complex. But before that, he takes out his phone. He knows what he has to do, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

 

 _I need to stop this before I get hurt,_ he reminds himself. He won’t have to live in fear of being cut off if he does it first. It makes perfect logical sense. And yet, it feels like he’s cutting off a limb.

 

But Taeyong has always been, and always will be, a coward.

  


\--

  


**To: Johnny <3 <3 <3 [3:25 AM]**

I don’t want to do this anymore, we should just stop.

Sorry.

  


\--

  


“Are your parents okay with you wanting to do this? As a career I mean?” Taeyong treats the photo prints like glass as he goes through them. To say they’re stunning would be a gross understatement. Johnny’s photographs are breathtaking, and it feels like he could take a picture of anything and it would look like pure art.

 

Johnny hums thoughtfully against the skin of Taeyong’s neck, holding him a little closer. “My mom’s okay with it. She doesn’t really… get it. But she tries.”

 

Taeyong pulls out the picture he likes most-- a black and white landscape of a forest, the branches of tall evergreens piled with snow. Even with the lack of color he can imagine being there, seeing his own breath curl in the cold, crisp air. Something about it is… lonely, and Taeyong connects to it. “What about your dad?”

 

Johnny’s arms tense around him. “He’s not around, so I don’t know. I don’t really care, though.” That makes Taeyong pause. Gingerly, he puts the photos on the bed next to him and turns around, settling in so they’re face to face. “He’s an alcoholic. My mom got tired of it, so they divorced.”

 

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” Taeyong feels a little pathetic, only able to say those words, and he’s probably the least qualified person to comfort Johnny. He can’t imagine not having both parents in his life. They’re overbearing, but they’re his. The idea of Johnny having to deal with this makes him sad.

 

“I’m not. He was a jerk.” Johnny looks very sincere about it, so Taeyong only nods, trying to be supportive.

 

“How old were you? I mean-- you don’t have to answer that, of course, but--”

 

“It was freshman year of high school,” Johnny cuts through the rambling. “So it was a long time ago.”

 

Something tugs at Taeyong’s memory, and it’s bothering him. He tries to think of his first year of high school, and whether he’d shared any classes with Johnny. It’s hard to remember most of his high school experience clearly, when it had been colored with working part time jobs when his mom was sick and several nervous breakdowns.

 

“Were we in any classes together?” Taeyong wonders. Johnny’s answering smile is tense.

 

“Mrs. Cho, first period English.”

 

“Oh.” Taeyong winces. “I don’t remember, I’m sorry.”

 

Johnny shakes his head. “It’s okay. It was like… eight years ago?”

 

“That’s like a century,” Taeyong says, trying to be light-hearted, because Johnny looks a little pitiful right now, and it’s probably Taeyong’s fault. For the life of him, he really can’t remember Johnny being in a class with him. They were in separate social circles, but Taeyong thinks that if someone as handsome as Johnny was anywhere near him, his poor teenage heart would have noticed. “Was it hard, back then?”

 

“A little,” Johnny admits. “I didn’t want to tell anyone. Everything was just so… different suddenly. I didn’t know who to talk to, and I didn’t want to bother my mom about it.”

 

Taeyong reaches up to push Johnny’s hair back. He’d neglected to style it, so his hair is hanging over his eyes a little. “I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.” And then, stupidly, he blurts, “I wish I could have been there for you.”

 

Johnny’s smile is wry, and he takes Taeyong’s hands in his to press a gentle kiss to the knuckles. “You’re here now though.”

 

That makes Taeyong smile, because Johnny never fails to make him smile. “I am.” He lets the warmth of Johnny’s lips seep into his skin. “What’s your mom like?”

 

The question makes Johnny’s whole face light up. “She’s amazing. Super funny.”

 

“Skipped a generation, clearly.”

 

“Hey!” Johnny’s pout only lasts for a second. “She works at this broadcasting station and she used to bring me with her to work when I was little. That’s how I first got into photography, actually.”

 

“That’s really cool.”

 

Johnny hums, looking wistful. “She used to make kimchi quesadillas when I was sad.”

 

Taeyong has to laugh at that. “Kimchi quesadillas? Really?”

 

“They’re delicious okay? I always crave them now but I can’t cook for my life so.” He laughs sheepishly.

 

“Hm.” Taeyong tucks Johnny’s hair behind his ear. “I’ll see if I can make them for you some time.”

 

“If you do, I’ll love you forever.”

  


\--

  


Taeyong has just settled into his blanket fort with a giant container of store-bought cream puffs when he hears a knock on his door. At first, he considers ignoring it, because he’s in the perfect position in his bed, his laptop balanced on his thighs, and getting up would involve having to untangle himself from the cocoon he’d made.

 

Another knock.

 

“Taeyong?”

 

It’s Doyoung’s voice, and he sounds urgent. Taeyong sighs, knowing full well he’s can’t, in good conscience, just ignore his best friend like this, so he sets about extracting himself. When he finally opens the door, he’s faced with the concerned faces of both Doyoung and Yuta, standing in the hall with their arms crossed.

 

“What.”

 

“We need to talk to you,” Doyoung says sternly, and it reminds Taeyong of the time he’d dyed his hair platinum blonde in high school and his mother looked at him in abject disappointment.

 

“What did I do wrong this time?” Taeyong asks, mostly joking, but kind of not, following his friends into the living room. Taeyong sits on one of the couches, Doyoung settles next to him, and Yuta just sits on the coffee table. Taeyong winces, wondering if the thrift shop find will actually support his weight, but doesn’t say anything.

 

“Did you break up with your secret boyfriend?” Yuta asks, without preamble. Taeyong blinks at him, trying valiantly to just breathe normally. It’s been three days since he sent the text (Johnny never replied), and he’s _just_ gotten to a point where he isn’t thinking about it constantly.

 

“I told you--” Taeyong’s voice wobbles dangerously.

 

Doyoung takes Taeyong’s hands in his own. “Taeyong, we really tried to respect your space because we know you don’t like us prying,” he says gently.

 

“You’ve been crying yourself to sleep the last couple of nights and we can’t just stay quiet about it,” Yuta interjects, voice colored with a touch of frustration that makes Taeyong’s body tense. “So you’re just going to have to tell us what’s wrong this time, sorry.”

 

“Yuta,” Doyoung admonishes sharply. “What he means, Tae, is that we want to help. We’re really worried about you and we don’t know what’s wrong so we can’t help.”

 

In the end, Taeyong just keeps continuously inconveniencing others. His shoulders slump, the guilt gnawing at him. “I’m sorry for worrying you,” he whispers.

 

Doyoung clicks his tongue. “Taeyong, you’re not listening to us. We want to _help,_ we don’t want you to be sorry.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong says again, because what else is he supposed to say?

 

“Can you please tell us what happened?” Doyoung tries gently.

 

“Did you break up with your secret boyfriend?” Yuta asks again, ignoring Doyoung’s glare.

 

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” Taeyong says quietly, looking down at the fuzzy rug underneath the coffee table. His bare toes curl into it, and the feeling grounds him a little.

 

“Was that the problem?” Doyoung guesses. Taeyong shrugs. “Oh, Taeyong. You know you’re too sensitive to do the whole no-strings-attached thing.” Taeyong shrugs again, because the back of his eyes are burning. He knows he’s an idiot, he doesn’t need Doyoung to remind him.

 

“Did he break up with you or something? Is that why you’ve been all sad?” Yuta pries.

 

“I did,” Taeyong says bitterly.

 

“Why’d you do that?”

 

Taeyong glares weakly at Yuta. “I spent the whole time wondering when he was gonna do it. So I did it myself.”

 

Yuta exhales sharply. “Jeez, Taeyong.” The way Yuta says it makes it seem like Taeyong did something really cruel. “Who even is this guy? You must have broken his heart.”

 

Taeyong grimaces. “I was doing him a favor.”

 

“Taeyong,” Doyoung admonishes, squeezing his hand.

 

Taeyong is distantly aware that his body is hot all over, his heart racing. Since everything is over, it doesn’t really matter if they know, but he’s pretty certain Yuta and Doyoung are going to laugh at him. Well, Yuta at least. Doyoung is too motherly to mock Taeyong to his face. “Johnny. Johnny Seo.”

 

For a minute, it’s absolutely quiet. Taeyong’s eyes are glued to the ground, and both he and Doyoung startle when Yuta gets to his feet. “Jesus _christ._ ” Taeyong looks up, watching Yuta pace around the living room, running his hand through his hair. Them Yuta turns, and he and Doyoung share a look.

 

“So this guy you’ve been… hooking up with is Johnny.” It’s not a question.

 

Taeyong grabs one of the pillows on the couch and presses his face into it. He doesn’t need this extra bullshit from Yuta. “I know. Fucked up, right?”

 

“Fucked up? You--” Yuta stops himself, making a frustrated noise at the back of his throat. “Doyoung, tell him. _I’m_ fucked up!”

 

“Taeyong… how did this start?” Doyoung asks slowly.

 

“He… uh. Was drunk one night and sent me a nude accidentally. We ended up… sexting.” On top of feeling rubbed raw from pain, he’s also humiliated. This is yet another reason why he doesn’t tell people things. He doesn’t need them judging his shitty life choices, when he can do that perfectly fine for himself.

 

“And you guys just… started having sex?” Taeyong winces, but nods. “And you guys just decided to… keep it a secret? Was that his idea?”

 

Taeyong rests his chin on the pillow. He can feel Yuta’s gaze on him, but he ignores it. “He didn’t say anything but. It would have been weird. If people found out.”

 

Doyoung sighs. “Taeyong, I need you to listen very carefully.” Taeyong turns his head to look at his friend, trepidation swimming in his stomach. Doyoung’s gaze is unwavering and serious. “Johnny doesn’t drink.”

 

There’s a high-pitched noise ringing in Taeyong’s ears. “What?”

 

“Johnny doesn’t drink. Ever.” Taeyong’s lungs feel crushed, the possible implications of the words suffocating him.

 

“How do you know that?” Taeyong asks, shaking. _The world is too cruel sometimes._

 

“We go out all the time. He always DD’s because he doesn’t drink. He can’t have drunk texted you. Because he can’t have been drunk,” Yuta says, words enunciated like Taeyong won’t get it unless he speaks at a preschool level. When Taeyong just blinks at him, still stunned, he groans. “It means he sexted you on purpose, Taeyong.”

 

“But… why?” The words come out like a whisper. Was this all some massive joke? Had Johnny texted him to make fun of him? _Why would he lie?_

 

Yuta and Doyoung share another one of their looks. It’s in these moments where it becomes really obvious they’re dating. “Tae, are you the one in Johnny’s Instagram project?” Taeyong nods slowly, humiliation burning in his veins. “Have you seen the posts?”

 

Taeyong looks down at the ground again. “No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Doyoung’s tone isn’t accusing, but the words feel like sharp knives. “I’m embarrassed. I don’t know what he’s doing with all the pictures and it was just a project so I didn’t think it mattered. I was scared.”

 

“Did you think he was going to do something bad with all those photos?”

 

“No, of course not.” He frowns, because Johnny is such an inherently kind person, Taeyong had never thought for a second that he’d be taken advantage of. “He’d never do something like that.”

 

“Then what are you so worried about?”

 

Taeyong feels really pitiful and it’s disgusting. This is why he doesn’t tell people things. The situation makes perfect, reasonable, logical sense in his mind. He’s exhausted every option in the last six months when analyzing his relationship with Johnny. Telling his friends just means having them poke holes in everything. They don’t understand. Taeyong can already tell they think he’s absolutely a moron, but he knows he’s not.

 

“Does it matter? We were fucking, now we’re not. I did him a favor, he’s probably glad to be rid of me now.”

 

“Jesus, Taeyong.” Yuta looks at him with pity, then at Doyoung. “Can you just--?”

 

“Yeah,” Doyoung murmurs, digging into his pocket for his phone. He taps on the screen, and it makes Taeyong’s anxiety go haywire.

 

“I don’t want to see it,” he pleads.

 

Doyoung looks at him, sharp and insistent. “Yes you do.” He shoves the phone at Taeyong, who takes it shaking fingers.

 

**_my.beloved_ **

A Johntography Project

 

Taeyong blinks at the username, then notes the thirty thousand followers on the page. _God._ My beloved? What is that supposed to mean? He scrolls through the page, clicking on ones at random, and the more he looks, the harder it gets to keep down the tears.

 

The photos are mundane— images of Taeyong’s body in casual positions. Sometimes he’s holding a mug of tea, other times his legs are tangled with Johnny’s on the couch. Everything Taeyong can remember cooking for Johnny is there. The pictures are so mundane, but there’s something dream-like about them. Like an ideal, perfect relationship. Maybe it’s Johnny’s deliberate use of a film camera and the way he plays with the lighting, but… Taeyong looks beautiful. _Is this how Johnny saw me?_

 

The captions are cheesy, the stuff poets dream of writing. The most recent picture is the one Johnny took of him in the tub. Taeyong’s heart jerks, because it must have been hard for Johnny to develop the photo after Taeyong cut things off. But it’s the caption that hurts him the most.

 

_I couldn’t have all of you, so I learned to love you in pieces._

 

Taeyong stares at the words until the screen goes dark, and even then, he feels totally paralyzed. In contrast to before, when his thoughts would race a mile a minute, his mind is totally blank. There’s nothing to say or do, except accept the fact that he monumentally misread the situation.

 

Yuta is the first to break the silence. “Do you get it now?”

 

There’s so much to process, a whole six months of moments to look at through a completely different lens. If he’d been more aware, if he’d paid more attention to Johnny instead of being so in his head, could things have turned out different? Could things _still_ be different? Taeyong doesn’t understand how Johnny could feel this way, and part of him wants to believe that it’s all just a social media ploy. But everything Johnny does is frighteningly good and sincere.

 

(In contrast, Taeyong lies and hides and pretends.)

 

And yet, here it is, the evidence of Johnny’s feelings, plain as day, with tens of thousands of people bearing witness. It’s brave. Taeyong wonders what it’s like to be brave. “I… don’t get it. And now I don’t think I ever will.”

  


\--

  


Johnny has had feelings for Taeyong for as long as he can remember. They were raised in a small town, so everybody went to school together and that group didn’t change much. Taeyong had always been at the edge of Johnny’s awareness, and he can pinpoint the time when things changed exactly.

 

Mrs. Cho, first period English.

 

He hadn’t told anybody about the ugly divorce (not that he had anybody to tell, Jaehyun wouldn’t become his friend until Johnny was a junior, and finally hitting puberty). He hadn’t told anyone about the emotional toll or the physical abuse, or about how much he absolutely _didn’t_ want to be in school when he could be taking photos of beautiful things and escaping his own mind.

 

Then came the _Romeo and Juliet_ project, hideous in its cliche. Mrs. Cho had thought it apt to assign a writing project with partners. And Johnny had been paired with Taeyong Lee, the object of his subtle affections. Taeyong was ridiculously adorable back then, small and mousy, with a mop of brown hair that never quite stayed out of his eyes, and a mouthful of braces.

 

(Johnny had somehow been blessed with naturally straight teeth. Though there wasn’t much else he could say for himself back then.)

 

Taeyong had taken one look at Johnny’s pathetic state and commandeered the whole project-- they had to write a modern-day version of a forbidden love story. They’d exchanged numbers simply out of formality, but Johnny knew by tomorrow morning Taeyong would already have most of the project done.

 

When the next day came, Taeyong had, in fact, completed most of the story (a tale of two girls in competing kpop companies, trying to keep their love a secret from their coworkers and the media), and also baked a pile of chocolate brownies that he set on Johnny’s desk first thing in the morning.

 

“You looked so sad yesterday. Chocolate helps,” Taeyong had said, with a soft, benevolent smile, and Johnny had felt especially guilty for not contributing. When he said as much, Taeyong just shook his head and told him not to worry about a stupid project and focus on feeling better.

 

Johnny took those words to heart, and it was precisely then, that he knew he was falling for Taeyong Lee. Despite the vortex of _bad bad bad_ around him, Taeyong was unadulterated _good._

 

After their brief stint together in Honors English, they didn’t really interact much. It was clear Johnny hadn’t left enough of a lasting impression on Taeyong to pursue a friendship. Besides, Johnny was the emo skater kid, Taeyong was the honors kid on his way to becoming valedictorian. (In the end, he was actually the salutatorian. Doyoung Kim, his alleged best friend, made the valedictorian speech at their high school graduation ceremony.)

 

He really wasn’t going to do anything about his crush. Johnny was content to just let it ride out, and admire Taeyong from afar until he somehow got over himself. But then they ended up in the same university, and had mutual friends, and Johnny was able to get within five feet of Taeyong without seeming creepy because they both belonged in the same space.

 

Taeyong became almost painfully more beautiful. Sometimes it was hard for Johnny to even look at him, because it made his chest ache with the feeling of wanting someone he absolutely couldn’t have.

 

Johnny dated, because he could, and because he didn’t want to be one of those idiots who pined after one person their whole young adult life only to see them be happy with someone else in the end. He wanted to be able to create his own happiness, separate from his dumb feelings for someone unattainable. He became popular, for some strange reason, and younger Johnny would have had a field day with that knowledge.

 

Photography became his entire life, and he committed himself to making others feel better with the snapshots he took of the beautiful world. But he was always itching to capture the image of something-- some _one_ \-- else. Taeyong remained busy and unbothered by Johnny’s appearance in his life.

 

And then came the text.

 

Johnny felt like a total idiot for hoping that, after eight years, Taeyong might want to pursue a friendship with him. And then, it was suddenly about Jaehyun, and Jaehyun vomiting in Taeyong’s toilet. Taeyong had absolutely no interest in Johnny. The first time Johnny was at his apartment (he knew where it was because he’d dropped off Yuta once, after dinner), Taeyong barely looked at him.

 

But for a fleeting moment, his treacherous mind allowed himself to wonder what it would be like to have Taeyong in his arms, to cherish him and love him like Johnny knows he’s capable of doing. And so, he did the unthinkable.

 

He sent a nude.

 

And now, after six of the best and worst months of his life, he’s sitting on the couch, scrolling through his digital camera previews of Taeyong, because he’s a masochist and truly hates himself.

 

“Hey Johnny, did you get the tickets for the zoo?” Jaehyun asks, rubbing a towel over his wet hair as he walks into the living room.

 

“Yeah. I screenshotted them,” Johnny mumbles. He pauses on a preview of a plate, piled high with kimchi quesadillas, and feels that sharp ache, right under his sternum.

 

 _Stupid._ He knew this wasn’t a permanent thing. Johnny knew he couldn’t keep Taeyong forever, all to himself. Taeyong belongs to himself, and made it clear, over and over again, that this was meant to be a temporary, clandestine arrangement.

 

“I’m gonna send them to myself,” Jaehyun says, grabbing Johnny’s phone from where it had been carelessly tossed on the couch cushion. "It expires before the end of the year so we need to go soon." Johnny just grunts in response.

 

He thinks of all the times Taeyong had asked whether anyone else would be home, how vehement he was in never staying the night, in acknowledging Johnny’s presence outside of the times when it was only the two of them, with no one else around to see. Johnny always hated being Taeyong’s dirty secret, but it was all he knew he could have, so he pretending he was okay with it.

 

Then, he thinks of all the personal moments Taeyong let him witness. His sadnesses and his fears, making him seem a lot more human than his appearance suggests. Johnny watched Taeyong become a real, living person, right before his eyes, when before, he was just a perfect, idealistic image. Johnny falls in love with the Taeyong who is flawed, who has tunnel vision and bites his nails and seems to hate himself a little too much. The one who would packs lunches for his friends, the one who makes brownies and omelettes and kimchi quesadillas and widens his eyes when Johnny shows him his photographs.

 

“Hey Johnny?”

 

“Hm?” Johnny can’t tear his eyes away from the preview, and it’s odd how the image of tortillas can make him want to cry. How, despite all his efforts to show Taeyong he wanted them to be something more, the relationship they built had been shattered by one simple text. Taeyong hadn’t even thought it worth saying in person.

 

“When did you start sleeping with Taeyong?”

 

Johnny’s spiraling thoughts come to a screeching halt, and he puts his camera down to look at Jaehyun. There’s something like disappointment in his eyes, and Johnny looks down at the phone in his hand, a picture of him kissing Taeyong bright on the display until the screen goes dark. His stomach drops.

 

“Tell me he’s not the guy in your photos.”

 

Jaehyun is a soft, mild-mannered person. It’s easy for people to fall head over heels for him, because he is sweet and sensitive and just overall a nice guy. But right now, his voice has an edge, and he’s looking at Johnny like he’s trying to pick at all the thoughts in Johnny’s brain.

 

“If I said that, I’d be lying,” Johnny says, after a pause. Over the last six months, he’d gotten really good at lying to himself. But he can’t lie to Jaehyun.

 

“I like, knew you were seeing someone and tried to give you space, dude. But. Taeyong? Really?” Johnny had forgotten that Jaehyun knew about his feelings and just how far back they went.

 

“Did you guys break up or something?”

 

“We weren’t together,” Johnny says bitterly.

 

“I don’t think I need to tell you how fucking bad of an idea that was, right? Like you know that was on astronomical levels of dumb?”

 

“Fuck off, I know, alright?” Johnny stares at the camera in his lap. He feels drained dry, and now his best friend is disappointed in him. Maybe he should move to the Alps. He’d get beautiful shots and the cold would distract him from feeling like everything inside him is broken.

 

“Did you tell him? About how you felt?”

 

Johnny rolls his eyes. “I made it pretty clear, alright? He shot me down without me having to even say anything.”

 

Jaehyun frowns at him, but doesn’t say anything for a while. “You know, I don’t know Taeyong that well but like. He always seemed kinda… I dunno. High strung? And fragile?”

 

“He’s not,” Johnny says without thinking, because it’s not true. Taeyong has weathered a lot in the years he’s been alive, and he’s probably the strongest person Johnny knows.

 

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I don’t mean like that. Just… he always seems like if you touch him he’s gonna, like, shatter into a million pieces. He always looks super stressed about everything all at once.”

 

“What’s your point?”

 

“I’m just thinking. Like, he just seems super… oblivious, dude. Preoccupied. So he doesn’t notice what’s going on around him cuz he’s so worried about school or whatever.” Jaehyun leans back into the couch. “Maybe you should have just told him. Like with _words,_ man.”

 

Johnny looks at his friend out of the corner of his eye. “Are you high?”

 

Jaehyun huffs a laugh. “Not since yesterday. Anyways being high doesn’t mean I can’t _think,_ dude. Maybe you should too. Think, I mean.”

 

Johnny thinks that’s ironic, because that’s all he’s been doing these days. But maybe, he was looking at everything wrong. “When did you get all wise, asshole?”

 

Jaehyun shrugs. “Just fix things, okay? I don’t like seeing you all sad just cuz of like. Miscommunication or something. You deserve better.”

 

\--

 

Taeyong lets himself get dragged to Sicheng’s Christmas party. Yuta insists a real party is better than a pity party, after all. So Taeyong bakes a truly astounding number of assorted Christmas cookies and ends up in front of Sicheng’s apartment with Doyoung and Yuta. Briefly, anxiety flashes through his body, wondering if Jaehyun will be there, since he and Sicheng are dating. Had Johnny told Jaehyun? Would Johnny be here tonight too?

 

“Hey!” Sicheng says, opening the door. He’s dressed pretty casually for a Christmas party, but Taeyong thinks that since he’s the host, he can dress however he wants. Taeyong greets Sicheng, who steps back and lets him in. He sighs in relief at the warmth, but the peace is short-lived.

 

In a flash of movement, Taeyong is pushed further into the apartment, and the door is slammed behind him, leaving his friends on the other side. “Hey guys?” Taeyong trues the door handle with the hand not holding the tupperware, only to find it stuck. There’s some scuffling and laughter on the other side.

 

“Hey Jaehyun, did you bring more Doritos--“

 

Taeyong’s heart stops. He knows that voice. Better than he knows anything else, probably. He lets go of the door handle and grips his container with both hands because his fingers are going totally numb and he doesn’t want to drop several hours worth of work.

 

He turns slowly, and it’s almost painful seeing Johnny again. It’s been a week but he’s hit full force with the attraction and adoration and hurt. Johnny’s standing there in a leather jacket and red turtleneck, looking far too dangerous and slick for Taeyong’s liking, but equally as stunned.

 

“Uh--“ Johnny says smartly. Taeyong bites his lip, trying to figure out what to say. He’s the one who fucked up and hurt Johnny, so he needs to take initiative and at least try to set things right. He’s dense, but not dense enough not to realize that his friends had given him an opportunity.

 

“I think we’ve been set up,” Taeyong says softly. Johnny clearly hadn’t expected Taeyong to speak, and now he’s gaping a little bit. Taeyong would feel sorry for him if his own heart wasn’t threatening to hammer right out of his chest.

 

“That’s… that’s a fucking dick move of them.” Taeyong winces at the sharp bitterness in Johnny’s voice as he runs a hand through his hair, looking furious. It makes him hunch his shoulders. Of course he’s ruined things with Johnny. Taeyong can’t fix things if Johnny doesn’t want him.

 

“I’m sorry.” Taeyong’s voice comes out like a pathetic whisper. He feels vaguely dizzy and nauseous from what is basically an outright rejection.

 

Johnny frowns at him. “Why are you sorry?”

 

Taeyong’s grip on the tupperware is like death. He really wants to set it down before he drops it and gets cinnamon and sugar on Sicheng’s carpet. “For… ruining the party for you. I swear I didn’t know you were gonna be here, I’ll leave--”

 

“What?” Johnny’s voice is a lot softer now, and he seems legitimately confused. “What are you talking about? Why would you leave? If anything I should be the one leaving.”

 

“No, you shouldn’t--” Taeyong takes a deep breath, his voice coming out more shrill than he anticipated. “It’s my fault, I didn’t know they were gonna do this but I don’t want to force you to be around me--”

 

“No, Taeyong, I-- Jesus christ--” Johnny sighs, face softening with understanding. “I meant… I meant that it was a dick move of them to force _you_ to be in the same space as _me._ I know you don’t want to be around me and I fucked up but--”

 

“You fucked up? _I_ fucked up. Why wouldn’t I want to be around you? I--” Taeyong nearly bites his own tongue, trying to calm his racing heart. “I-- I need to put these cookies in the kitchen.”

 

Johnny seems to hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “I-- Yeah. For sure.” Taeyong takes several shaky steps across the living room to head into the kitchen. He passes Johnny, and the smell of his cologne is heady and it makes Taeyong want to weep. His brain feels muddled and he’s not really sure what to say or do anymore. “What kind of cookies did you bake?” he asks, trying to sound casual.

 

Taeyong swallows. “Uhm. Snickerdoodle. Sugar. Nutella. White chocolate chip with macadamia.”

 

“You must have cleaned out the grocery store.”

 

“Aha. Uhm.” Taeyong swallows, setting the glass tray of cookies down after making space on the overcrowded counter. He can feel Johnny’s presence at the threshold, his hesitation. Taeyong wants to be brave. For Johnny. “Who said I didn’t want to be around you?”

 

Johnny leans against the doorway, hands in his pockets. “I mean. You’re the one who broke up with me--” Realizing his choice of words, Johnny blushes, flustered. “Not break up, I mean like… cut things off. Bad phrasing. Uhm.” Johnny shoots Taeyong a truly pitiful look.

 

“I was scared,” Taeyong says, looking down at the tray, fixating on the parts where the aluminum foil didn’t fold in all the way. “I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and I was so sick of being anxious all the time and I couldn’t take it anymore so I just. I cut things off.”

 

When Taeyong looks up again, Johnny looks stunned. “You thought… I was gonna cut things off?” Taeyong nods. “Why? I--” Johnny runs his hands through his hair again. It had been combed nicely and gelled back but it’s turning kind of unkempt now. “Why?” he repeats. “Why would you think I’d ever want to let go of you?” Taeyong startles at the vulnerable words. His fingers curl into his palms to keep them from shaking.

 

“I--” It feels like words aren’t enough to explain himself right now. But he has to try. “I mean. You’re _you._ I’m me. I’m an anxious mess, I worry all the time, I’m nothing special. You deserve so much better--”

 

“That’s bullshit.” Johnny’s voice is both firm and gentle. Taeyong shivers. “I hate that you think about yourself that way. That you’d think I’m somehow… better than you when I’m not. I’m a mess too, Taeyong. Maybe I just do a better job of hiding it.”

 

Taeyong doesn’t know what to say to that. His shoulders slump. Johnny sighs heavily. “So this whole time… you didn’t know I had feelings for you?”

 

Hearing the verbal confirmation makes Taeyong’s heart beat that much faster. He hadn’t thought himself capable of being a recipient of someone’s romantic interest before. And the fact that it’s Johnny Seo, of all people…

 

“When did you find out?”

 

Taeyong bites his lip. “Doyoung showed me your Instagram. After... everything. I didn’t understand, and to be honest, I still really don’t, but I know that I hurt you. I didn’t mean to, but I must have hurt you so much. I can never apologize enough for that.”

 

There’s a minute stretch of absolute quiet. Johnny turns his face to press his forehead against the doorframe, then huffs a laugh. “I… yeah, you did. You hurt me so much, Taeyong. I was so angry with you.” The words hold no bite, but Taeyong flinches anyway. “I thought I had… made myself really clear to you. And you just didn’t want anything more than a… physical relationship. And when you texted me to cut things off I felt like a piece of shit. Like I wasn’t worth being even told face to face after all this time.”

 

Taeyong’s eyes sting with tears. “I’m so sorry, Johnny.”

 

“I was so mad at you. I didn’t think you were capable of being that cruel. But now I’m just… I’m mad at myself. For assuming. And for not trying to understand you better.” Now it’s Taeyong’s turn to be stunned. “I spent such a long time creating this… image of you in my mind. Perfectly put together, beautiful, aware of who you are and what you do to people. To me.” Johnny smiles, a quick twitch of the lips. “I thought so many things. I didn’t once think that maybe you weren’t this perfect person that I put on a pedestal for so many years.”

 

“What?” Taeyong blinks at Johnny, trying to process the worlds. It’s not making sense.

 

“I’ve had a crush on you since like, the ninth grade, Taeyong.”

 

“What?” Taeyong repeats. The world is tilting on its axis a little bit. It feels like a bizarre dream.

 

Johnny smiles ruefully. “Mrs. Cho, first period English.”

 

“I tried to remember, Johnny, I just--”

 

“We worked on that _Romeo and Juliet_ writing project together? Or more like, you did the whole thing and I felt guilty about it.”

 

Taeyong thinks about it for a minute, and then it suddenly dawns on him. “Oh my god, that was _you?_ ” His vision feels blurry at the edges. “You had that long hair and that hideous pink polo shirt that you wore for like a whole week--”

 

Johnny winces. “Not my best moment.”

 

Taeyong covers his mouth over his hand, in pure disbelief. “That was really  _you?_ I--” He looks up at Johnny again. “Was that when your parents were getting divorced?” Johnny nods, looking down. “I… didn’t want to bother you because you looked so sad all the time, like you were gonna cry at any moment. I felt so bad, I didn’t know what to do.”

 

“You baked me brownies.” Johnny looks up, his face unreadable as he meets Taeyong’s eyes. “We were strangers but you tried to help. That’s still the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

 

“I didn’t know what else to do--” Taeyong splutters.

 

“It meant everything to me.” Taeyong shuts his mouth at the weight of Johnny’s words. “I felt so alone back then. I didn’t really have friends and I couldn’t talk to anyone but you just. Swooped in and tried to be nice to me instead of getting mad or ignoring me. That’s when I realized I liked you. And--” Johnny’s blushing now. “I thought you were really cute.”

 

Taeyong has a sudden urge to scream. At the top of his lungs, preferably until he passes out and wakes up from this insane hallucination. “I was so ugly back then!” he protests. “I had braces!”

 

Johnny shrugs. “A lot of people had braces in high school.”

 

“I had a mullet, Johnny. An honest-to-god mullet.”

 

That makes Johnny grin. “You were so cute that even the mullet couldn’t change that.”

 

The words are so sweet that it makes a lump form in Taeyong’s throat. It’s a little hard to breathe, and he finds himself desperately craving their careless banter, the way Taeyong felt comfortable with Johnny like he never has with anyone else. “I don’t… know what to say. I didn’t know.”

 

“I figured that out recently,” Johnny says, straightening up. “I mean, I knew you struggled with self-perception and all that but… I didn’t realize how deep it ran.” He steps closer to Taeyong, and it makes Taeyong want to shrink back, but he keeps his back straight.

 

“I spent the whole time being scared.” Taeyong wrings his hands together, looking down at the linoleum floor. “Scared that you were gonna drop me, when you realized how much of a mess I am. And that I was just gonna get hurt because you couldn’t possibly feel the same way about me as I do about you--”

 

Johnny’s impossibly close now. Taeyong instinctively takes a deep breath, because Johnny’s smell is like a warm blanket. He associates the scent far too much with comfort and safety and love, and for a moment, he lets himself enjoy it. “And how do you feel, exactly?”

 

Taeyong musters up the courage to look up, into Johnny’s warm amber eyes. He missed being this close, being able to look at Johnny’s face freely. “I like you. A lot.”

 

“When did you realize?”

 

That question makes him pause for a little. He wants to give Johnny an honest answer, because he deserves Taeyong’s honesty. “I think… maybe after the first time? I kind of had a crush on you for a while but it didn’t turn into _like_ like until after the first time we... you know. Cuz you were so sweet and different and better than I imagined so--” Taeyong sighs. “Yeah.”

 

Johnny raises his eyebrows. “Wow. That’s crazy.”

 

Taeyong exhales sharply. “Yeah.”

 

“But… I think I definitely win.”

 

Taeyong scowls. “This isn’t a competition, you ass--”

 

That makes Johnny laugh, bright and booming. Taeyong’s annoyance simmers down into a steady ache of want and need. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just that… I liked you for like eight years so you really don’t have an excuse to doubt my feelings anymore.”

 

“I still don’t understand _why--”_

 

“Well, I do. So there. Too bad, so sad.”

 

Taeyong wants to frown, but it’s hard to keep a smile off his face. It feels like he hasn’t been this happy in ages. “You’re a child.”

 

“I’m a man-child,” Johnny corrects.

 

Taeyong purses his lips. “Congrats on that.”

 

Johnny hums. “Thanks.” Then, his expression turns more serious, and tentatively, he takes Taeyong’s hands. “I… want to try. To be together. For real this time.”

 

“I do too,” Taeyong says honestly. “But… I have a lot of things I need to work on first. I want to be fair to you, be the kind of person you deserve, but I have a lot of issues--”

 

“We can work on those. Together, if you want. And… maybe you can help me too.”

 

Taeyong looks into Johnny’s eyes, and sees nothing but open honesty. For once, there’s nothing for Taeyong to second-guess, because suddenly, he’s seeing things with a lot more clarity. “A good friend of mine who goes by the name of Doyoung Kim reminded me recently that I’m worthy of taking up space in other people’s lives.”

 

“Those are wise words.” Johnny’s hands are always so impossibly warm, in comparison to Taeyong’s icicle fingers.

 

“Don’t tell him I said that because I’ll never hear the end of it.”

 

“Your secret is safe with me.” It occurs to Taeyong that he’s grinning like an idiot right now. It’s okay, because Johnny’s smile is just as foolish. “So, what do you say? Wanna take up space in my life? Preferably all of it?”

 

“That’s so cheesy,” Taeyong whines. Johnny just laughs again. “But yes. I want to.” He bites his lip, feeling nervous all over again. “Will you do the same?”

 

“My fourteen year old self is shaking.” Johnny pulls Taeyong into a very welcome embrace. “Only if you’ll have me.”

 

“Of course I will,” Taeyong murmurs into Johnny’s sweater. After being so high-strung for ages, it’s strange to feel so unburdened, all of a sudden.

 

“You know what else? I didn’t even get to tell you.” Taeyong hums against Johnny’s chest. “I got an A on that project. So thanks. For being hot and stuff.”

 

“Uh, say that again after you get my bill.”

 

Johnny pulls Taeyong away to gasp at him. “You’re so _mean._ I tell you I have feelings for you and that gives you the _audacity_ to treat me this way?”

 

Taeyong doesn’t get to respond, because the front door bursts open, and all their collective friends pile in. “Oh thank _fuck,”_ Yuta groans, pulling off his beanie and plopping down on the couch.

 

Doyoung sits next to him and pats his legs. “What he means is that we’re happy you two figured things out.”

 

“It was cold as hell,” Sicheng says, walking into the kitchen to pour himself some Jameson, before walking back out, wiggling his eyebrows as he goes.

 

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Taeil says. He squeezes Johnny’s arms and smiles at Taeyong. “I’m happy for you guys.”

 

“You’re only all happy cuz you got here late and didn’t have to stand outside for twenty minutes,” Jaehyun grumbles, making his way into the kitchen. He reaches between Taeyong and Johnny for his phone, which neither of them had realized was there, on a Facetime call with Sicheng, recording everything. Jaehyun smiles at them innocently. “I have a meddling fee, but I take payment in Nutella cookies.” Then he turns to Johnny and sniffs. “You’re welcome, bitch.”

  


\--

  


Commencement goes on for what feels like a million years. The graduation cap is itchy, the robe is hot, especially because Taeyong’s dressed in a shirt buttoned all the way up to his throat. He didn’t know there were so many _people_ in Natural Sciences.

 

It feels like a surreal dream when he gets up on stage and is handed his diploma. The Dean, in her speech, had specifically said to leave the cheers and applause for the end, but Taeyong can hear Jaehyun and Johnny hollering at the top of their lungs. It’s so embarrassing but he doesn’t mind as much as he thought he would.

 

He shakes the Dean’s hand, poses for a picture, and is herded back to his seat to fidget until the rest of the people have had their turn. But finally (finally), he’s a college graduate, and while most people through their caps in the air, he keeps his on his head because he doesn’t want to lose it. Not after he’d worked so hard to earn it in the first place.

 

It takes a while to find his group, weaving through the crowds of people holding helium balloons and leis and flower bouquets. Johnny’s mom spots him first, calling him over and pulling him into a tight hug. “Congrats, sweetheart. We’re so proud of you.”

 

“Thank you,” Taeyong says shyly. Mrs. Seo gives out affection as easily as her son, and hadn’t hesitated to welcome Taeyong into the family. HIs own parents couldn’t afford to fly out to attend the graduation, so he’s thankful to have a parental figure here.

 

“My angel baby cupcake sunshine!” Johnny yells, grabbing Taeyong by the waist and twirling him around in the air until Taeyong is crying from laughter and begging to be put down. “Wait, hold your diploma up! Your mom wants pictures!”

 

“You’re so embarrassing,” Taeyong whines. He sees the rest of their friend group approaching, and he shoots them a helpless look.

 

“I have to document this! Graduation is important!”

 

“You graduated too,” Taeyong mumbles, letting Johnny turn him towards the sunlight and pose him holding up his diploma.

 

“Yeah but the art school commencement was two days ago. Old news.” When Johnny’s finally satisfied, he steps back and takes several pictures of Taeyong at different angles and heights.

 

“Okay, I think it’s time for a group picture,” Mrs. Seo says, finally taking mercy on Taeyong. She wrestles the digital camera from Johnny’s hands and shuffles all of their friends together, with Taeyong and Johnny in the middle.

 

“On the count of three, say ‘we escaped this hellscape’,” Yuta suggests, posing with a peace sign.

 

Johnny’s mother is somehow even worse than Johnny about taking photos. Taeyong lets himself be moved around, fixing a smile on his face. He zones out eventually, letting her get whatever angles she deems best.

 

It’s odd, looking back at the past year. When he and Johnny first started seeing each other, Taeyong wasn’t even sure he’d make it to this point. There’s this piece of paper in his hands, the culmination of all of his effort, countless panic attacks, sleepless nights, sweat, tears, and even some blood. He’s accomplished so much, both on an academic and personal level.

 

“Okay, just Johnny and Taeyong now,” Mrs. Seo instructs. Their friends pull away with a groan.

 

“I’m proud of you,” Johnny says, his hand wound around Taeyong’s shoulders. Taeyong smiles up at him.

 

“Thanks. I really couldn’t have done it without you.”

 

After their slightly messy (and apparently recorded) confession, they’d agreed to take things slowly, to get to know each other as people and friends, before pursuing something more romantic and sexual.

 

It was so much easier, having someone to talk to and rely on when things get bad. Johnny had encouraged him to seek counseling, too, and he’s proud to say he’s improved a lot in the last few months. Some days are still hard, and it’s still a struggle to break out of the cycle of toxic thoughts, but for the first time in what feels like forever, Taeyong has hope.

 

It shines bright and true, and Taeyong finds himself looking forward to the future instead of fearing it. Especially now that he knows he doesn’t have to do it alone.

 

“I know, my face is super handsome. It’s been clinically proven to help people graduate with biochemistry degrees.” Taeyong rolls his eyes, elbowing Johnny in the stomach, waiting for Mrs. Seo to adjust the camera settings to her liking. “Hey, by the way, I meant to ask you something.”

 

“What is it?” Taeyong looks up at Johnny, who’s smiling in a way that makes Taeyong brace himself for a truly horrible joke.

 

“I was wondering if you would want to… maybe… go on a date with me?” Taeyong raises an eyebrow. Johnny nods seriously. “I think I’m in love with you.”

 

Taeyong’s face twists. “You _think?_ ”

 

Johnny’s grin is wide and loving. “Okay you’re right. I’m _sure_ I’m in love with you.”

 

“Good,” Taeyong sniffs. “Because I’m in love with you too. So.”

 

“That’s a relief,” Johnny teases. “So? Will you go out with me? For real this time?”

 

Taeyong pretends to think about it. “Sure. Why not.” He leans up at the same time Johnny leans down. They kiss for the first time in months, and it feels like coming home.

 

Johnny’s mom snaps a picture.

**Author's Note:**

> congrats for making it through this!!!! i hope it was okay!!!!! god bless taeyong's nipples 2k18  
> happy new year! please take care of yourself, my inbox is always open for anyone who needs support, and im rooting for u to totally OWN 2018!!!!
> 
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